The Hybrid
by Apocalypse Survivor
Summary: In the world of the apocalypse, all but a few truths are broken, even the new ones.
1. Chapter 1 R

**Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead.**

** A/N: Hey, everyone. While Maxforce works on overcoming his immense writer's block, I'll be doing some revisions to my previous chapters, to hopefully improve them and fix grammatical errors that bother my OCD. For each chapter I've modified, I will add a "R" after the chapter number.**

On the outskirts of the great and magnificent Pine Barrens of New Jersey, where the trees grew thinner as the wild gave way to the greedy advances of civilization, a raging roar echoed through the silent forest. From almost a quarter of a mile away, the sounds of small trees and underbrush being shredded and crushed beneath the feet of a monstrous predator could be heard. Infected who called the ancient wood home scattered like animals before a flood. Even Tanks and Haggards, sleeping beneath the massive shady trees and hidden in dank, dripping caves between boulders retreated, moving back into the black recesses of their shelters with an unheard growl of warning, or rapidly moving to the side of the great beast's warpath.

Quite literally coming through the trees, a humongous shaggy monster, panting and drooling heavily as it lumbered along, chased tenaciously after a small, darting shape desperately climbing across and over the lowest branches of the tall and old trees of the Pine Barrens. Even with the furious pace set by the creature in the trees, the horror below managed to keep an unwavering lead on the creature, and was slowly gaining. Turning back for a split second, the creature leaped sideways with a jerky, unexpected movement. It began a complicated and hasty zigzag of leaping and clawing through the large pine trees. The beast was hard pressed to follow, its panting growing along with a frustrated growl beneath the quite audible breathing. As its prey skittered up a tree and disappeared into the canopy, however, the predator let out a anger-filled bellow.

Far above, the former prey sat on a sturdy branch, heart pound in its – his? - chest and watching wide eyed as the irate bear, infected with the horrible Green Flu, dribbled saliva and shot spittle everywhere as it glared in his general direction. It snorted, sending out a stream of rather disgusting snot onto the tree, before shuffling off in the direction it had come from. The young boy – for that is what he appeared to be - put his hand up to his nose, stuck his fingers out, and blew a raspberry while wiggling his fingers. However, perhaps "fingers" would not be the greatest term for his digits. Instead of fleshy extremities, five long, brutal claws – flexible at the joints, but quite stiff looking – stood off of the rough and scarred palm of his hand. New cuts, opened up by the boys frantic flight, oozed a deep maroon blood, which slowly dripped down the teen's sleeve and onto the tree.

If one were to observe the teenager currently resting on the thick arm of a pine, they would be able to discern several of his defining features. For one, the boy looked to be about the age of fifteen standard years. Next, and more importantly, his limbs were shaped very differently from the typical human's. His feet, with the clawed and elongated toes poking out of a pair of worn and blood splattered sneakers, were connected to a pair of muscled, oddly shaped legs, that seemed to have extra musculature beneath the skin than a normal human. His arms seemed human, but his fingers were large claws, obviously meant for a carnivore, and more of the strange extra muscles flexed beneath the skin. He was extremely pale, and had a pair of disconcerting red eyes that glowed in the low light filtering between the tree branches. He opened his mouth to release a yawn, showing off a set of formidable sharpened teeth. As for his clothing, he had a pair of tattered blue jeans on, and an overly large hole filled black hoodie, with the hood pulled up. All of his clothing articles were stained deeply with old, rust colored blood. Any person could tell that this boy was an infected.

His eyes half lidded with exhaustion, the teen slumped against the tree, the adrenaline finally leaving his system and making way for sore muscles and a lack of energy. However, before he drifted off for a fitful night of rest, he opened his eyes again and began to search his pockets lethargically. He found what he was looking for in his back pocket, and pulled a sheet of torn and crumpled paper. With interest, and a hint of sadness, the teen unfolded the damaged paper, his eyes scanning its mysterious contents.

_CLASSIFICATION: "Render"_

_PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: "Witch" claws, deep glowing red eyes, dark brown hair, medium build and height, increased muscle mass, pale skin tissue_

_ABILITIES: Can pounce similar to "Hunter" variant, limited by larger claws on hands. Liable to fly into a rage akin to a "Witch."_

_EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. HANDLE WITH CAUTION AND NECESSARY SAFETY PROCEEDURES._

_PERSONAL NOTES: From what we have gathered, this specimen of the viral infection, dubbed the "Green Flu," has retained most if not all cognitive and mental abilities, and may still possess memories. Subject has shown extreme hand-to-eye coordination in tests where most other subjects have failed; also appears to have some form of intelligence, further testing required. DO NOT damage this subject, it is currently one of a kind and we have lost too many agents to this specimen already._

Now, the boy's eyes drooped with misery, not a lack of energy. Melancholy, he folded the paper back up slowly and shoved it into his hoodie pocket. His head thumped against the unyielding side of the pine, and the teen exhaled quietly. He relaxed, his rigid muscles loosening up and his back did its best to conform as comfortably as possible to the uncomfortable tree bark. The boy's head drooped to the side, and he was off to oblivion. Nothing would try and disturb his slumber if it valued its unhappy existence.

However, while the local infected population may not disturb the intruder, they would most certainly watch him. Their primitive, animal minds warned them to stay away, and to not approach the strange infected. Their bloodshot and mucus coated eyes, glowing a deep and sickly orange, peered out of the cover of darkness. They circled the infected boy like hunters, waiting for their wounded quarry to collapse from blood loss. They dared not come closer, for fear of discovery, but they kept a close vigil over the slumbering teen.

As they watched and waited, their instincts whispered to them, from far away. _Avoid the different ones. Death. Agony. Avoid the Sentients._ The true monsters of the night backed away, their baleful gazes still leveled on the dangerous newcomer.

_Avoid the Sentients._ One of the few rules in the new world.

**A/N: So, as previously stated, MERRY FRIGGIN CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY. I'm sorry that this isn't anything really new, but to be honest, the original chapters could seriously use some reworking. I'll be doing my best to keep to the story already laid out, but hopefully I'll be able to tell you Render's story in a better, more interesting way. I may also be adding some filler background chapters for Jenna and Screen in the next few weeks. For any new readers, you'll encounter these characters in the next few chapters. As also stated before, I will be putting a "R" in the chapter title to let readers know which chapters have been redone. So if the next chapter seems like it was written by a 13-year-old noob, well, yeah.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've decided I'm going to continue The Hybrid, despite the lack of reviews I've received so far. Anonymous reviews are on, people! You have practically no excuse for the lack of feedback, and laziness doesn't count. Anyways...**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead, the Haggard, Spiker, or any other OC infected I use.**

While the arrival of dawn eased the fear of many of the survivors of the apocalypse, it also brought new challenges and another twenty-four hours of living hell. The young Render was no different. He could spot other infected easily, but day was when many of the stronger zombies hunted the few living humans in the surrounding area. As he awoke, the Render stretched his limbs, hearing joints crackle and pop. The young creature yawned, flashing an impressive set of fanged teeth. Smacking his lips hungrily, he shook the sleep from his body and leaped to the ground, preparing to scavenge in the nearby town. In the typical Hunter crawling pose, he began the new day.

Private Jackson's P.O.V. (first person)

The squad walked down the abandoned street, hoping to find a store or fast food place not yet looted. I eyed a McDonald's restaurant, but knew that junk food would slow me down, and if you were slow, you were dead. The Sergeant stopped, and held up a hand to get us to halt. We scanned the houses around us, five pairs of frightened and bloodshot eyes. Ever since we had been sent to find any possible survivors, it had been a nightmare. We lost half our number to a hulking monstrosity with jagged pieces of metal sticking out of it's hide, which it threw like javelins. My name is Andrew Jackson, I'm 21 years old, and I was living in the world predicted by a fricking _video game._ By now, everyone knew the infamous title of the game Left 4 Dead, as it nearly predicted the whole damn thing. Everything down to the kinds of zombies were real now. And then there were creatures not even mentioned in the game that had appeared. What we referred to as "Haggards," "Spikers," "Screamers," "Leechers," and "Leakers," along with all the freaks from the games. Two years ago, it was all fun and games. Now it was our life.

We continued scouting the immediate area, hoping to any deity we knew of to keep us safe from harm, or worse, infection. The Sergeant stood up, and was about to tell us to keep moving, when a tongue latched onto him. We shot at the Smoker that was constricting him, and it fell to the ground in a smokey heap, lifeless as the bullets took their toll. Our leader ripped off the offending appendage, stamped on it, and started walking again. The four of us followed close behind, intent on getting "the _hell, _out of this _hole."_ (**A/N: That's a Bioshock 2 reference!) **Unfortunately, luck was not with us that day, as a Boomer leaped off the roof of a house and exploded on top of the entire group.

Render's P.O.V. (first person)

Getting down on all fours, I crawled towards the ruins of a once prosperous town, now a heap of steaming, crumbling buildings. I longed for the company of another intelligent being, but I knew the chances of that happening were slim to none. Ever since the infection hit my hometown, my life has gone downhill. Becoming infected after almost two months of surviving, watching my family escape without me, being hauled off to a CEDA research station... But all of that had happened in the past. Now, I had to focus on survival, and avoiding that insane infected grizzly bear. It nearly mauled me to death for getting to close to it's latest kill. I couldn't help it, I was starving! Anyways, down to business. I continued following the worn woodland path I always took. I just wished I could remember everything. I knew my past, my childhood, all the things learned in school... everything but my name. I decided to simply refer to myself as Render, like that CEDA paper I "found" in the main building. One day, I will have my revenge for what you did, CEDA... One day, soon...

I was shaken out of my reverie as I realized I had reached town. I began sniffing the air, my Hunter genes giving me super senses and the ability to pounce, and my Witch genes giving me the claws and toughness. I was an even match for a Tank, but a Haggard or infected bear was out of my league. I leaped onto the roof of a house. Suddenly, I was hit from the side by a flying animal. I was about to shred it to death, when I realized who it was. The infected dog jumped off my back, barking happily. I smiled, as the dog, who I had named Ripper, wagged his tail and panted at me. Hmm, Ripper and Render. A fitting combination. I kept my smile, and carefully rubbed his head. The only thing that changed about him after being infected was his eye color, red like mine. Well, that was my theory.

I said in my signature hoarse and scratchy voice, "Hi boy! How's it going? Who's a good doggy? YOU are!" Ripper yipped happily at my praise. I grabbed his old collar that was lacking a name tag, and brought him with me into a nearby half-collapsed Acme. This place sucked when everybody wasn't dead, too. I walked in, silently looking over the shelves, and cautiously headed to the canned food isle. I grabbed a can of chili, opened it with a single claw tip, and fed the cold contents to Ripper, watching him greedily suck up the food. I turned back around, selected another can of chili, and jogged over to the back of the store. I had set up a small fire pit with a propane tank in storage. I slowly cooked my meal, nearly drooling. I hadn't had a proper meal in several days, living off berries and dead game in the forest.

When it was done, I slurped it while being careful to not burn my mouth. Infected or not, I still felt pain, if ever so slightly. I glanced to my left, and spotted the dead soldiers I had found on the road. I had dragged the bodies in the building and taken their dog tags, to show that I did not harbor any ill feelings towards those who had slain so many of my infected brethren. I noticed a paper hidden in one man's pockets, which you could not see unless at a certain angle. I stood, moved over to the dead person, and retrieved the sheet of paper. It was a boring old report HQ had sent their squad. I scanned it in an uninterested manner, until I noticed a heading labeled "_The Sentients._" I opened the page, and could not believe my eyes. This was a report on others like me!

I read the contents hungrily, wanting to know more. I discovered that I was not the only black sheep infected. There was supposedly a Hunter, Smoker, child Screamer, and Witch traveling with a group of survivors, and a Witch, Boomer, and Spitter at a military camp called "Camp Carrier." **(The Misadventures of a Curious Hunter and Hazel references.) **I could not discern much more than that. I wished there was more, but now I knew I wasn't the only one out here! I looked at Ripper excitedly, and said, "Ripper! There's other people like me! I can't believe it!" Ripper barked happily at the fact his normally depressed master was cheerier than earlier. I got to my feet, walked to the dead human and said in a hushed voice, "Thank you. You might have died, but you've brought more meaning into my life." I swear, I heard a voice among the sudden breeze whisper, _you're welcome_. I looked around, startled by the statement. I looked down at the bodies again. I realized that if zombies were real, then there was a good chance ghosts were too. Frightened by the feeling somebody was watching me, I quickly left the store, Ripper in tow. I heard the doors slam, even with no wind blowing. I ran faster. But I slowed down as I heard gunfire in the distance, and the screams of a horde that must have been almost a hundred strong. I leaped back to the roofs, told Ripper to stay, and went to assist the epic battle in town square.

Private Jackson's P.O.V. (first person)

We were screwed. I had that feeling in my gut, that _knowing. _I knew we would not make it out of this gazebo in this dead town. We would make our final stand here, and die simply from the sheer amount of the zombies. There had to be at least a hundred of the damn freaks. We wildly fired our M16's, letting our ammo dwindle steadily. I fired into a Hunter's face, killing it instantly. I primed and tossed a pip bomb into the crowd, killing a handful in the ensuing explosion. I kept firing, gunning down what seemed like a never ending wave. I blasted the face of a Common zombie, then another, and pistol whipped a Jockey that had been unfortunate enough to face my desperate wrath. I quickly ran out of rifle ammo, and switched to my Glock sidearm. I pumped lead into anything that moved, when the worst possible thing happened. A Smoker decided to try and molest me with it's tongue. I was rapidly pulled through the horde to my impending death.

I couldn't help but struggle. I thought, _Will I see my family again when I die? What will happen?_ I concluded that I would get to see all of my deceased family in eternal rest. But then, I also can to the conclusion that it was not my time yet. I wiggled and squirmed, trying to break free. I had to escape! The freak dragged me closer and closer. I tore the combat knife at my ankle out of the sheath, and forcefully jabbed the tongue. It recoiled, then tightened even more. I regretted attacking it, then remembered I was about to be eaten by something that can't even suck in it's tongue. How pathetic is that?

Unexpectedly, I randomly stopped moving. Looking behind me, I saw the strangest thing I've ever seen in my short life. A teenager with huge claws, and a dog with demonic red eyes, were tearing apart the Smoker that had attacked me. I could only stare in shock at the two-on-one infected showdown. The Smoker stood practically no chance against the kid. All that was left were a few bloody limbs strewn about the ground. Then, just so the universe could mock me before I die, the kid spotted me.

Render's P.O.V. (first person)

After mauling the outclassed Smoker, I turned around to inspect the cowering human soldier petrified on the ground. He looked as if he had been thrown into a huge blender and set to churn. He was armed with only a combat knife tightly clenched in his fist. Terror filled his eyes as I scrutinized his condition. Grunting, I wandered over to him. The man flinched, but I ignored it as I placed him on Ripper's massive back. I'm not entirely sure, but I believe that Ripper is a mastiff. Despite that, the soldier glanced at me, and I saw he was asking a silent question. _Why? _I wouldn't leave an innocent person to be devoured by a diseased monster. No one deserved that, not even CEDA.

Both of our heads flew towards to sound of a huge explosion. We watched in awe as a mushroom cloud flew up from where what used to be the town gazebo. I realized that the last of his war torn squad had to have just perished. At almost the same exact time, Our hands flew to our heads, and the pair of us gave a salute to the soldiers who had just gone out in a literal blaze of glory. I gazed at the new crater sadly for a few more seconds. I turned my head back to the soldier.

The man had gotten off of Ripper, and stood there, a determined look on his face as we stared at each other. He stated quietly, "My name is Andrew." I replied just as hushed as him, "Render." He gaped at me, mouth wide, as if he just saw a flying elephant pass by. Snorting and rolling my eyes, I walked past him in the direction of a apartment I occasionally sleep in. Andrew and Ripper attempted to catch up with me as I returned home. But the adventure wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

**Quite a lot of action this chapter, isn't there? We get to meet two new characters, and I'm planning to add another next chapter. Again, please review, and tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, all of the wonderful people who reviewed! All 4 of you guys. -.- Come ON readers, really? Of the 30 or so separate people to read it, only 4 reviewed? Sigh... Oh well, at least some of my viewers care... Nah I'm just kidding, I'm glad you guys are reading. Thank you everyone who has given me the motivation to keep writing. Update: I fixed a few of the names and typos I had that made it a little confusing.**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead.**

(third person)

Andrew scrutinized the rundown apartment Render used as a makeshift safehouse. The small rent house was nearly collapsed in on itself. Render slouched over to a room, and mumbled hoarsely, "I don't care what you do, but bother me and I'll feed you to Ripper." Andrew shuddered at the thought, and looked over at the groggy infected dog, who was curled up in a cute little ball on the rug in the kitchen. Shutting the door behind him, Andrew limped to the bathroom. The tired man pushed on the wooden door, but found it locked from the interior. "Ugh... RENDER! THE BATHROOM'S LOCKED!" Render kicked the bedroom door open and shot a burning glare towards the soldier. "Do you ever SHUT UP!" The Private just gave him a blank look and said, "The bathroom door is locked. I really need to go, too."

Render stared at him disbelievingly. "You really woke me up because you didn't think to feel for the spare key on the frame?" Andrew face palmed. Render sighed and told him, "Just unlock it already." Andrew turned around, grabbed the key off the door frame, and stuck it in the doorknob. Twisting the key, he shoved his weight against the door, but it would still not budge. Render, losing the last of his patience, moved Andrew aside and told him irritably, "Fine, if you're to much of a pansy, I'LL do it!" He leaned back, and brought his foot down upon the glazed wood.

? P.O.V. (first person)

Shit! They needed the bathroom we were hiding in! I turned to my sister. "What do we do!" I asked in a panicked whisper. She turned to me. "I have no clue! If they find us, we might get killed!" I glared at her in the dim light. "How is that supposed make me feel better?" She retorted, "You and I are sixteen, we can handle ourselves!" I spun back around as the sound of voices reached us again.

"Just unlock it already." We heard a deep, scratchy voice speaking. It sounded like a young demon. It was deep and throaty, almost as if someone had tried to cut his vocal cords. We heard the noise coming from the lock being jiggled and turned from the outside. The two of us braced our bodies next to the hatch into the room, as we heard the hoarse teen say, "Fine, if you're too much of a pansy, I'LL do it!" At the same time, we realized that a person was going to smash down the thin hunk of wood we were leaning against.

(third person view)

Render kicked the door down with tremendous force. By now, Ripper came over to inspect all the commotion in his household. The three of them heard a pair of "Oofs!" through the splinters of the door. As the dust settled, two female shapes came into view. Andrew took out his holstered Glock and shouted, "Alright, get on the ground now!" Two heads shot up, and then went back down as they saw the weapon the soldier held pointed at their faces. One voice, obviously a girl's, yelled, "Please don't shoot us! We're only sixteen!" Andrew lowered his gun slightly then asked, "Why are you here?"

Render added darkly, "And why are you in the one apartment I try to keep nice?" The girl on the left flinched, while the other glared at him with a little bit of fear from under a shaded hood. Render repeated, "Why are you here? Tell me, before I sic Ripper on you both." Then the dog wandered into view, teeth bared and growling at the intruders. The two women sighed, and one said, "OK, we'll tell you." What the guys saw shocked all of them, even Ripper.

The sight before them was an unusual thing to see, to put it lightly. In front of them were two young teens. But that wasn't the most shocking thing about them. One had tumors all over the left side of her body, and a huge tongue hung down the front of her torso. The other girl had claws, fangs, and dark circles under her haunted eyes. It occurred to Render that these infected were Sentients like him. To Andrew, he was seeing a female version of normally all male strains of the infection.

The Smoker said shyly, "My name's Screen, short for Smoke Screen, and that's my sister Jenna." Render inspected them suspiciously, while Andrew simply let his jaw drop open. First, he meets one sane talking infected, and now more? He had better be getting more rations back at the base after this. Render grumbled something about having to find a new apartment without a pair of nutsy females. Then he realized who he was talking about and that he had more questions.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Screen shuffled awkwardly, and replied quietly, "Well, we wanted to know more about the rumor about a hybrid that wasn't only smart, but had escaped CEDA's labs. How did you manage that anywa-" Screen never got to finish that sentence as Render pounced her and had his claws at her throat faster than anyone else in the building could see. Jenna blinked, then took in what was unfolding. "Get off my sister!" she snarled. Render glanced at the fuming infected, and replied icily, "Tell me where you got that information. _Right now." _Jenna snarled and reluctantly mumbled, "You have a bit of a reputation down south. We're from North Carolina." Render jumped up and removed himself from the trembling Smoker.

He glanced down at Screen apologetically. "Sorry, I just don't like it when someone I don't know has stuff on me." He quickly glanced at Andrew, who was watching him with a new suspicion in his gaze. "What was that about escaping CEDA?" Render sighed and stared at the floor guiltily. "Nothin'," he mumbled. "_Render,_" Jackson said sternly, "Tell me what this is all about, now." The young adolescent heaved a great sigh of defeat, and with a glare shot at Screen he unhappily said, "OK, OK... I'll tell all of you. I'm not going to repeat myself, so listen well."

Render's P.O.V. (first person) 

I had no interest in repeating my past to these strangers who seemed to think I was some sort of Southern legend, and an armed human who's life I had saved. "Oh god, where do I begin?" Andrew suggested, "How about when you became infected?" I really did not want to tell that part, of all of them. Inwardly I was about to dash out of the room, but I knew I had to if I wanted to keep the trust of my companions, and apparently my new teammates. I began my epic tale of how I escaped from the nemesis of all infected, and how I ended up as one of the legions of the undead.

"It all began four months ago. When we learned that the Green Flu was real after playing Left 4 Dead for several years, the gamers of my town leaped into action. While the rest of the town was panicking and running about, four of my best friends and I began collecting weapons and barricading our houses, following The Zombie Survival Guide almost to the letter. Eventually, the infection rolled by, and our five families were safe in our near impenetrable homes. We held out for about two months, until the end of the first two months after the infection began."

"CEDA came and opened an evacuation station by the gazebo, which your squad destroyed earlier, Andrew. I was covering my family and my friend's families with an Uzi when I got overrun by a Tank and accompanying horde. I fought them off with my bare fists, and by the time I had killed everything except the Tank, I had been bitten numerous times by a random Hunter and the Commons, and felt strange. Suddenly, I screeched like an enraged Witch, and leaped at the Tank, ripping it apart with my new claws. I had bought my friends and family time to escape, but had become infected in the process."

I grimaced, a small tear running down the side of my face as I looked at the ground in sadness. Screen scooted closer and hugged me lightly, despite the fact that I had nearly ripped her apart in anger and fear. Ripper also came onto the couch to comfort me, laying his head in my lap and growling in a reassuring way. Andrew was staring at me as if I was a god, and Jenna was looking away in pity. I continued my tale.

"After the Tank finally died of massive blood loss, I lost consciousness. When CEDA sent a scouting party to find any remaining survivors, they discovered me lying on the ground next to one of the biggest infected covered in claw marks. They captured me, dragging me back to their main labs to experiment on me and find out why I was a hybrid infected. For weeks, they tested my strength, agility, and intelligence in painful and intrusive trials. For a month, I plotted the escape from my torturers. I put that plan into action when one of the stupider guards opened the cell all the way to put my meal in with me. I ripped him, and several scientists, to shreds, and then fought my way through the facility and to the exit. I escaped back into New Jersey, and wandered into the Pine Barrens. Since then, I've been plotting my revenge on CEDA and trying to survive."

Andrew was the first to speak up. "You don't tell stories very often, do you?" I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but it failed miserably. I turned to face the sisters. "So, I told you my past, now how about why you were looking for me, and how do infected in the south know about me?" Screen told me in a hushed voice, as if the tension in the room would snap if she wasn't careful, "A Sentient in the CEDA base you destroyed got out in the ensuing confusion, and he told everyone in Newhaven about an infected kid who just blasted through all the agents CEDA sent after him. We thought it was just a rumor, but from what you said, we found him." I let this sink in, then asked in a curious tone, "What's Newhaven?" Jenna spoke up. "It's a town that was rebuilt on the ruins of an old one... that has only infected living there."

**Yay! Two new characters! I'm on a roll! I don't think this is as good as the other chapters, but there isn't nearly as much action as the last two chapters. Anyway, to explain Newhaven: It is one of the Sentient sanctuary towns built by the infected after the East Coast was abandoned. The main city was named Hard Rain, in honor of the L4D2 campaign. There, Sentient infected can live in peace. Screen and Jenna live in Newhaven, as it is an important town to the infected, due to it having a large bay. I hope that helps, and don't forget to review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead.**

(third person view)

Render and Andrew just sat there on the beaten couch, confused looks upon their faces as they gazed at the young Huntress. Render asked curiously, "What do you mean only infected? Do you mean that there are actually _towns _full of smart special infected?" Jenna added, "There are some Sentient Commons, too." Andrew blinked at her, giving Jenna his trademark blank stare of incomprehension. "So Sentient infected have rebuilt towns is what you are telling us?" Jenna sighed, and decided to just start from the beginning. She explained how the Sentients created safe towns for infected people, how they were spread across the East Coast of America, and where the capital city of Hard Rain, named in honor of the fourth campaign in Left 4 Dead 2, was located.

"It's just north of the ruins of Philadelphia." She finished her tale, leaving two astonished males in front of her. "Oh my god..." Render whispered in awe. "There were entire towns of infected like me, and I never knew?" Andrew simply couldn't take all of the new information in at one time. _These three aren't the only "Sentients?" Could... could everything I thought about infected be wrong? _The man took a quick glance at the youngest of the group. Render had that thousand-mile-stare, appearing to be lost in the fact that he wasn't the only one of his kind. Andrew figured he would act like that if he discovered that he wasn't the only human still alive along the entire eastern half of the country.

Ripper interrupted the happy assembly of people when he started to let loose a feral growl, glaring hard at the front door. Almost afraid of what they would find, everyone slowly turned around to face the entrance into the apartment. They saw... an unopened door. But they knew that whatever had upset the massive infected canine was beyond the framed wood covered in a glossy coat of paint. Hesitantly, Screen quietly shot her tongue to the doorknob. She looked back, telling everybody with her eye to prepare themselves. Andrew once again released the safety on his handgun, while Render and Jenna got into crouching positions. Screen turned her head back around, and flicked her whip-like appendage. The lock released with a silent click.

For several seconds nothing happened as our heroes tensely hid themselves behind the furniture. Then, a bloodcurdling laugh echoed through the room. At first everyone feared for the safety of their faces, but when nobody was head-humped, Render peeked over the reclining chair in the corner. Big mistake. For as it turns out, it was not a Jockey standing in the dimly lit hallway, but a Screamer. The escaped asylum patient turned insane Common beacon spotted Render. It let out a terrifying screech that went out for miles round. The creature then dashed down the hall, laughing maniacally as if it knew the havoc it wreaked.

The four tensed as a singular cry rose from the throat of the horde that raced towards the building. Render jumped to his feet, giving instructions to his allies. "Crap, it was a Screamer! Screen, Jenna, grab the lighter, matches, and flares from the kitchen. Andrew, come with me." They ran to complete their objectives before the building was overrun. Render ripped the closet door off it's hinges, reached in, and tossed Andrew an AK47 with extra ammo and a pipe bomb. He reached in and took out a modified Uzi sub machine gun. The trigger was reinforced steel, the trigger guard was farther up the stock, a silencer was attached, the handle was covered in steel as well, and it was painted pitch black. Render pulled out two backpacks full of ammo, and threw the correct one to Andrew. The soldier could only stare, mouth open, at the hybrid. "How did you manage all of this?" Render slipped on the pack's straps and replied, "I've had a lot of time to prepare for having to leave the apartment complex, and to modify my faithful Uzi to work with my hands. I call it the Tank Crusher." He gestured to the weapon hanging from a strap on his arm. "Now come on, we gotta move!"

Running back into the main room, the guys met up the girls and Ripper. Render loaded a round into the chamber, and said, "I've got a pickup I found with minimal damage out back. Let's kick and haul some ass!" He moved over and mercilessly kicked down the front door. "Come on, we've only got a few minutes before the horde gets up here." Render mowed down the first wave of zombies to appear at the top of the stairs. The group sprinted for the elevator at the end of the hallway. Along the way, every infected tried to stop them. Jenna clawed out another Hunter's throat, Screen tossed a Common out the window with her tongue, Render blasted the shit out of a Boomer and Jockey in quick succession, Ripper bit the leg off a Common and got covered in viscera and blood, and Andrew blew the face off a Charger, leaving a bloody crater where it's head was a few moments ago.

The five of them reached the elevator after what felt like hours of battle, when it had been a matter of seconds. Andrew and Render kept the freaks at bay as the horde drew closer and closer to the lift. Then, just as the first Common jumped into the elevator, Screen managed to get it going to the first floor. Jenna kicked the normal zombie in the face, slamming it against the wall, and Andrew finished it off with a quick burst, splattering the walls and people in blood. It slumped to the floor, silenced.

Screen breathed in and out heavily, leaning on the side of the elevator. She was not used to having to fight more than a few of her stupider cousins while running for her life. Jenna went over and rubbed her back, trying to get her sister to calm down. Render and Andrew were reloading and clearing their weapons, and Ripper was spitting out the disgusting blood of the zombies on the carpeted floor. Render watched the counter slowly creep towards the number one, stowing his Uzi silently in his pack. Andrew placed a new magazine in his AK47, and glanced down at Render. _I hope this works. _He thought privately to himself. With a ding, the doors opened into what was left of the main lobby.

Bodies lay everywhere, half decayed and chewed. A dead security officer lay on the linoleum tiled floor, his eyes glazed over and a battered and useless pistol clutched in his cold fist. Shells lay everywhere, depicting an epic struggle as he breathed his last. Feeling nauseous, the girls and Andrew averted their sight, faces tinted green. Render and Ripper simply ignored them, stepping over the corpses on a path towards the back door. The trio followed, not wanting to be left behind by their only hope of escape. Render slashed apart the doorknob and tossed the door itself aside. (**A/N: Render has a strange hate for doors, especially the wooden ones.) **He stepped through, staying aware for any infected still on the bottom floor and not rushing up the stairs to where the prey had been moments before.

Glancing around the corner, he continued trekking to the ultimate objective. Finally, after several minutes of travel through twisting halls and numerous hatchways, the five reached the door to the outside world. Render repeated his procedure of dismemberment on the innocent wood, and briskly moved to a parked pickup that had seen better days. It was painted rust red, the right window was smashed, and flecks of blood covered the vehicle. Andrew took the lead, hopping into the driver's seat, grabbing the keys from the dashboard. Ripper jumped into the shotgun seat, and Render, Jenna and Screen clambered into the back. Andrew turned the key, igniting the engine, and put the gear into drive. He backed out slowly, then pulled out onto the street. It was clogged with rusting cars but he masterfully swerved around the wrecks and out of the area.

Render banged his left fist into the roof, yelling, "Head for the highway!" He faced Screen and Jenna. "Which way to the nearest town that's safe for us?" Jenna pulled a worn piece of paper out of her hoodie pocket, and tossed it to Render. He slipped it in through the window to Andrew, who read the instructions and corrected their course. Screen pulled the little door at the back of the truck up, so that they wouldn't slip out. Sighing heavily, Render rolled onto his stomach and began snoring. "Men," muttered Screen as she readied herself for dreamland. Then a second chorus of snores joined in, and Screen huffed at her tomboy sibling. She placed the side of her head without the tumors on the bottom of the truck, and promptly fell asleep. _Trenton, here we come. _She thought drearily.

3 hours later, traveling along the highway north

Andrew was completely exhausted, drained by the constant fighting against the zombie menace. He pulled over at a rundown (obviously) rest stop, stepped out, and shook Render's shoulder. The young boy's eyes shot open, one hand covering his stomach and saying, "No, not again, please, not the scalpel, PLEASE! NO!" He looked at Andrew, who had an alarmed look upon his visage, and asked shakily, "Why did we stop?" Andrew, still disturbed by the teen's haunting words, said, "We have to stop for the night and find shelter before it's too dark. I'm going to find somewhere for us to sleep in that rest stop with Ripper." The soldier walked away, leaving an unhappy Render behind him.

Render flipped over onto his stomach once again, and decided to inspect the girls. **A/N: Not like THAT, you pervs.) **He had only a small chance to see their faces earlier. He looked at Screen, the shy Smoker first. The left side of her body was covered in boils. She had long red hair down to her back, and some freckles on the right side of her face. When it was open, her remaining eye was a glowing yellow. She was about five foot ten inches, nearly six feet tall. Render looked over at Jenna next. She had medium length black hair, pale skin, dark bags under her eyes, and the eyes themselves were a deep blue. She was somewhere around five foot five inches, and had her hood up most of the time. The hoodie she wore was a light gray, unlike Render's. It was hard to tell what the rest of their bodies looked like, as they wore fairly baggy clothing. It was obvious, though, that they both had fair sized chests and were much prettier than their animal-like cousins.

Render blushed red as he realized he probably would have been slapped if they were awake right now. He had never been very comfortable with women, and two girls who were only a few years older than him? He stood no chance romantically speaking. Shaking himself, he settled on scouting the parking lot. Render jumped out, leisurely moving towards a parked car. He planned to scavenge it for useful items. But as he drew closer, Render noticed something strange about this car. It was snoring, with a slight whistle at the end. The realization hit him like a bomb. It was a sleeping Tank.

The massive pink hulk was resting on it's back, snoring loudly, an amazing feat for something with no lower jaw. Render wondered how Andrew had missed it, when he remembered that the survivor didn't have night vision like the infected. Render stood, frozen in fear with the idea of being eaten by the monster. "Wait a second, how does the Tank even eat anyways?" He thought aloud. Two seconds later he regretted being so curious. The behemoth snorted abruptly, and began waking up. It blinked a few times, sat up using it's huge arms, and looked at Render. "..." They had a staring contest until Render broke the silence. "Fuck." The muscled monster looked at him for a few more moments, then roared in the hybrid's face. Spittle flew into his eye, and Render squinted, unmoved by the creature's display. The tank, sat back, confused as to why this strange infected did not flee, when it asked in a deep voice, "So, you aren't gone yet?"

Back at the truck, Screen awoke to the loud exclamation of "WHAT THE FU-"

**Hi, viewers! It's nice to see you all again. I hope you like the last chapter I posted, because again, I don't think it was my best. I went for a bit of humor in this chapter, because I don't want the crew down in the dumps all the time. Also, if anybody is wondering, I am NOT planning on making the Tank stay with them, but he will appear later on.**

** Render: Am I gonna get killed or something?**

** Me: No, probably not, I mean, you ARE based on me. Even your looks!**

** Andrew: What about me?**

** Me: Nope.**

** Render: Hey!**

** Anyways, if you guys have questions for the characters, send them to me in a review or PM. I'll answer them the following chapter. Also, important note: If any of you are wondering when I am updating my Halo story, I am simply working on this right now, I am not stopping Reach: The Chronicles of a Gamer.**


	5. Chapter 5

**What's up loyal readers! A few things first before chapter 5. One: Updates will be slower because of school. Two: If you haven't guessed it yet, Render is me, and I am adding my pals from school later on in the story. Three: I am planning to have a little more humor in the chapters from now on out, so don't be like "Why is he ruining a serious story" on me. I won't appreciate it. And lastly: I find Disturbed is a great band to listen to while I write this fanfic, so it may put you in the right mood in different parts of the story. And you guys get a preview of my buddies who are gonna help Render kick some zombie ass later!**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead, Thrice or Disturbed.**

Screen rubbed her balled fists into her eyes, trying to find out what had frightened Render so much. He dashed by, screaming loudly. "Sissy," muttered Jenna. She, too, had been awoken by the terrible racket Render had made. Andrew ran out of the rest stop, and asked, "What happened? Is everyone OK? What's Render's problem?" Screen just shrugged helplessly. Then, they felt a rumbling tremor run through the asphalt. Andrew looked behind him. Standing there, breathing a foul wind into his face, was a Tank. An unhappy looking Tank too.

It glared at Andrew for a few more seconds, the young soldier petrified in fear, before it asked, "Is your young friend alright survivor? He seemed a bit frightened by me." Andrew's mouth opened and closed like a fish on land. A talking infected with no jaw? How was that even possible? The Tank tilted it's head and repeated, "Hello? Survivor?" He carefully poked Andrew, who didn't move in the least bit. Sighing, he turned and asked, "Maybe one of you girls can help me." That was when Screen realized who the deep voice belonged to. "Mr. Richards?" she asked tentatively. The Tank blinked a few times, then asked, "Screen? Is that you? I haven't seen you in weeks!"

Screen laughed and hopped out of the bed of the pickup. "I can't believe you're here! I thought you were visiting a relative in Hard Rain?" Richards grunted in agreement. "I was traveling down south because I had just finished my visit. I see you and your sister are going in the direction of the city." Screen nodded in confirmation. "We're trying to get Render, that dude with the Witch claws that ran away squealing, to the city because he wants a safe place to live. He had that soldier over there, Andrew, with him when he found us hiding in his bathroom waiting for him. Guess what? He's that kid the man who escaped from CEDA's labs told everyone about! I think he flipped because when he transformed, a Tank attacked him and he shredded it."

Richards took this all in, and stated, "Well, you have a lot of traveling left to do. We're in Northern New Jersey right now, so you still have a survivor camp and two towns with Sentients in them until you hit Hard Rain." Jenna sighed angrily. "That much? It'll take days to get to the city at this rate!" Andrew finally spoke up, asking an embarrassing question. "Umm, Mr Richards was it? How do you speak without a bottom, you know, err, jaw?" The Tank glanced at the soldier and responded, "I'm not too sure, actually. No one in any of the towns knows, either." Before Richards said that, Jenna was about ready to claw out Andrew's eyes for asking such a rude query. Suddenly, there was a loud bark, and Ripper came running out of the building, a piece of unidentifiable meat hanging from his maw.

Richards would have grinned if he was physically able to. He heard a rustling come from the nearby bushes, and when he looked, Render was standing there, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry I flipped out. I wasn't expecting a talking Tank to ask me why I hadn't scrammed yet." Screen and Jenna were trying to hold in giggles at their friend's misfortune, and Andrew was resisting the urge to face palm. Render kicked a clod of dirt with his foot. "I heard you guys talking. So, you AREN'T going to come with us?" The rest of his party stopped for a second, and it hit them that he was right. Before they could continue that thought, however, Render asked, "How do you know Mr. Richards anyway?" Andrew was also wondering how the girls knew the hulking creature. Jenna spoke up. "He lives in Newhaven. Mr. Richards is our neighbor. How else do you think we would know him?" Render shrugged similarly to how Screen had earlier.

Mr. Richards looked over the group, and said, "Well, I should get going. The humans are never out during twilight hours, and I intend to reach my destination in a week or so. I must take my leave. Good luck to all of you and your quest." Screen looked at him sadly. "You're leaving already? Well, when you get home, can you tell our parents what's happening? They always flip out on us if we aren't home within a day." Richards gave her his word that their parents would find out. He gave a final adieu, turned in the opposite direction of the north star, and lumbered off. The five companions watched his huge frame slowly shrink into the distance. Andrew sighed, tense from the strange occurrence that had just happened. "Well, we had better get some more sleep. It's going to be a _long _day tomorrow."

**Several hours later, just before noon**

Everyone had an objective to accomplish before they set out on the seemingly never ending road trip. Screen and Jenna were searching for sleeping bags. Andrew was attempting to find ammunition and more weapons. Ripper was trying to find breakfast, as he was famished. And Render was becoming increasingly frustrated with a small group of vending machines he had discovered by the bathrooms. He brutally punched a functioning machine with one hand. Render growled under his breath, and yelled, "Come on you fucker, gimme my ice cream!" He became fed up with the metal contraption that ate the dollar he had found on the front desk. Render sank his claws into the front panel, and used his immense strength to tear the display window and retrieval slot off the rest of the machine. Reaching in, he happily removed a chocolate eclair, ripped off the wrapper, and licked the frozen treat.

After enjoying his snack, his Witch side craving sugar and his Hunter side wanting flesh, he realized that the rest of the ice cream would melt soon. He walked outside and announced loudly, "Hey, guys! ICE CREAM!" All four of them stopped their activities at once. "Ice cream? YEAH!" The quartet dashed past Render, intent on getting a taste of the sweet substances. Half an hour later, the three humanoids and Ripper were moaning on the floor. Render made a 'tsk' sound, and said, "I'm half sugar eating zombie, and I'm the only one not passed out in a food coma! Damn it..." Render individually moved his teammate's sorry backsides into the bed of the truck, and set about collecting the forgotten supplies. He tossed food, four sleeping bags, an extra two Glocks and a Ruger Mini-14 (hunting rifle) into the back with the sleeping four. Render closed the door so that they wouldn't roll out.

Moving to the front of the truck, he hopped into the driver's seat. Carefully turning the keys, he ignited the engine once more, put the gear in drive, and drove out onto the highway. Render sat up straight so that it was easier for him to see out the windshield. Even with no traffic, the roads were still dangerous as they had scattered debris and rusting hulks of crashed vehicles lying along the path. A destroyed oil tanker lay on the side of the road, a twisted heap of metal and still-leaking oil. As he approached an off-ramp, Render noticed a huge gathering of infected by it. He grimaced, and turned on the radio, hoping to find a channel still broadcasting. To his amazement, not only did he find a working station, but it was playing one of his favorite songs! Render began singing along to Indestructible by Disturbed as he barreled through the unsuspecting zombies.

"_Another mission, the power's have called me away_

_Another time to carry the colors again_

_My motivation, an oath I've sworn to defend_

_To win the honor of coming back home again_

_No explanation will matter after we begin_

_Unlock the dark destroyer that's buried within_

_My true vocation, and now my unfortunate friend_

_You will discover a war you are unable to win_

_I'll have you know_

_That I've become_

_Indestructible_

_Determination that is incorruptible_

_From the other side, a terror to behold_

_Annihilation will be unavoidable_

_Every broken enemy will know_

_That their opponent had to be indestructible_

_Take a last look around, while your alive_

_I'm an indestructible master of WARRRR!"_

The song continued as Render mercilessly drove through the ranks of the undead. When he was singing, Render's voice became softer and more like what he had sounded like before he was infected. Render silently cursed the infection ruining his voice-box. It had not only separated him from his family, and made it almost impossible to touch anything, it had destroyed how he talked! Coming out of the angry red haze that had clouded his vision, Render realized that they finally cleared the patch of zombies. He began humming as another favorite song of his started playing, I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin. It reminded him of his current situation, since it was about the gradual winning of evil, and how a determined person can survive in the bleak future.

Render closed his eyes in rapture for a minute, then reopened them when he remembered that having one's eyes shut while driving was begging for an accident. Sighing heavily, he slumped slightly. Would he ever be able to play video games again, or hug someone, or feel love? It seemed that the universe just hated him. Ever since the house-forts had been overrun be wailing undead, everything was going downhill for Render... He mentally shook himself. What was he thinking? Render had gained something, very similar to the survivors of the Left 4 Dead games: a new adopted family, who would lay down their lives to protect each other. Render smiled ever so slightly. He did enjoy traveling, and while he didn't openly admit it, Render found the rush of battle ecstatic when he was almost guaranteed to win.

Suddenly, a flying creature slammed into the windshield. Render yelped in surprise. The strange monster looked at him, a long tube-like mouth pointing at him. "Oh, SHIT!" Render yelled, as he recognized it as a Leecher. Leechers are all similar in form. They crawled along the ground, using razor sharp fingernails. They were always missing _everything_ below the waist line. They had a long tube for lips. Leechers would jump on prey's back's, their super-light bodies almost impossible to feel. They would suck the prey dry of it's lifeblood, killing it. They can never be sated, as all the consumed blood leaks out their missing lower bodies. Blood leaked from the creature onto the windshield. The Leecher hissed at Render, causing him to reel back in disgust, when it leaped off the window with a burst of strength. How did it even become airborne in the first place? As Render pondered the question, he came to the conclusion that he really didn't want to know.

**Several miles ahead, in the forest**

It was early evening. A bright fire could be seen burning in a clearing of trees. A group of four could also be spotted crowded around the flames, attempting to get warm. If one were to come close enough, they would recognize the forms as a quartet of young teenage boys. Each was as different as the next. One wore glasses, had brown hair and eyes, was roughly five feet tall, and held a machete next to him. The next was a large boy, also wearing glasses, who was a little on the chubby side with blonde hair and blue eyes, grasping a bloodstained baseball bat in his lap. After him, a tall boy sat with his knees to his chest, the same colored features as the last. This teen held onto a golf club, bent and worn from use. And finally, the last boy had a bashed guitar, with brown hair and blue eyes.

All of them were around the same height, varying a few inches each, covered in sweat and grease, and no more than thirteen years old. They wore clothes stained with gore. Back a few hundred feet, what remained of the CEDA transport vehicle sat roasting slowly in the night. All that was left were the smoldering hopes of the boys and chance of escape. The first teen sighed. _Why is it we can never win? First the Green Flu is real, and then we lose...him... and now, the four of us are stuck in the woods!_ He thought in a depressed manner. Things were definitely not looking good for the four of them. _At the least, our families got away. They were on a different helicopter._ He glanced at each of his closest – and last – friends. They had sadness in their gazes, but also held a burning determination. Not only to escape these accursed trees, but to find out the fate of their fallen comrade.

The first teen sighed sadly again. He reached around, and pulled out a salvaged pair of cans containing chicken noodle soup. Popping the tops with his weapon, he grabbed a metal rod with a flat end, placed the cans on it, and began quietly cooking the meal for the four of them. The third male spoke up. "Guys... what are we going to do? I mean, we're... all alone, and we... we have no leader without-" He was interrupted by the first boy. "Eric, I don't know, okay? None of us do." Eric looked away, and mumbled, "Sorry I wanted to _know, _Andrew." Andrew, repositioning the cans, glared at his companion, and turned to the second boy, asking him his own question. "What do you think Owen?" Owen glanced up at his friend. "I don't know either." He looked at the last boy. "What about you, Thom? Any ideas?" **(A/N: No, this is not a young Andrew the soldier. This is my friend from school, who I didn't know wanted to be in the story when I created Andrew the soldier. Don't worry, older Andrew will be called something else later.)**

Thom shook his head. "Nope." He stated simply. He placed his battered melee weapon on the ground. Thom angrily kicked the ground with his heel. "Why did CEDA have to move us from the camp? We were fine! They even moved our families too!" Andrew looked at Thom sadly. "Tom you know perfectly why. We're carriers. If we weren't careful, just one of us could have started an outbreak in camp." Thom sighed unhappily at being reminded, as did everyone else. Owen spoke again. "Does that mean we can only, you know, have girlfriends that are carriers too?" Andrew slapped hm in the back of the head for making them realize this. They ate in dead silence for a little while.

Exasperated and exhausted, Andrew laid down on his stiff back. "We might as well get some sleep if we wanna move by tomorrow. Eric, can you take first watch?" Eric nodded in confirmation to the others question. "Good. Wake one of us up when you can't stay up any longer." One by one all of them eventually drifted off to the land of dreams and illusions. Eric leaned against the trunk of the tree behind him, attempting to not fall asleep as well. Scanning the area, Eric did not notice anything different than it had been several minutes ago. Looking up at the moon, he wished that their lost friend was still alive and well. _What are we gonna do without you..._

**Pickup truck, heading northeast**

"Render! Where are we? What happened?" Jenna asked from the small sliding window on the back of the truck cabin. Render shouted out his answer to be heard over the wind. "You guys fell asleep 'cause you ate too much! While you were out, I did some introspection, ran over approximately thirty zombies, and got to listen to some of my favorite songs on the radio." Jenna blinked, not suspecting that to be Render's answer. She was expecting some kind of witty remark from him. Behind her, Screen and the other two were awakening from their coma-like states.

"Argh, my head," Andrew moaned unhappily. Ripper whimpered pathetically to show his discomfort. Jenna looked at him. "Fatass, you ate the most!" Andrew looked offended. "I did not! Screen did!" Screen glared at the soldier. "Shut it!" They continued bickering, bothering Ripper and Render to a high degree. Render nearly snapped at them, but calmed himself down to an acceptable level and activated the radio. Meanwhile, the others continued arguing about food. They stopped, however, when they heard a soft voice singing with a song on the radio. Jenna identified it as The Artist and the Ambulance by Thrice.

"_Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal,_

_Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel_

_My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up_

_And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white_

_They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I'm gone_

_Now I owe my life to a stranger_

_And I realize that empty words are not enough_

_I'm left here with the question of just_

_What have I to show except the promises I never kept?_

_I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets_

_I hope that I will never let you down_

_I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound..._

Everyone sat in enraptured silence as they listened to Render continue and finish the song. As he became quiet once more, it occurred to them that his voice had sounded almost..._normal_ while he sang, in the place of his average raspy tone. Render's voice, practically radiating his smirk, floated out of the cabin. "I see that shut you up. I guess you three like my singing skills?" Jenna shook her head to clear her thoughts, and responded with, "No, it was just so annoying that we had to stop arguing." Render laughed from his seat. "Of _course, _Jenna. How silly of me? I forgot that I sounded like a _dying cat!_" He snarled this last part out. Jenna and the others flinched; the adolescent infected realized that perhaps he sang because his voice wasn't so hoarse, not just because he liked the music.

Jenna spoke urgently, knowing that Render would be able to hear her. "No, Render I didn't mean it like that, I just-" The boy cut her off. "I don't care! I don't want you to ever mention this to anyone other than the four us, ever. GOT IT?" Jenna started to slightly shake. She was much smarter, attractive, and stronger than other Hunters – but when Render became angry, she steered clear of him. Jenna may be older, but Render had the rage of a startled Witch and the claws of one too. Not to mention the pounce and speed of a Hunter. He would easily silence Jenna if she agitated him enough. They all became quiet after that little outburst, when Render broke the silence. "Where's the nearest town or camp?" Screen pulled the map out of her back pocket. Scanning it, Screen found the location of a nearby community of Sentients.

Screen poked her head through the sliding window. "Keep going straight, take the next off ramp, then a left, left, right, left, right, and you'll hit the town of-" Screen consulted the map once more. "Some place called Cherrygrove. Apparently, it has a lot of Sentients in it, and the occasional survivor group passes through. This map was made a month or two ago, so it should be right." Render turned around to face his friend for a few seconds. "A month or two can hold a lot of change in the apocalypse, Screen. I just hope that you're correct. I just want to go to sleep for more than five minutes." He looked back at the road, pushing down on the accelerator. "To Cherrygrove it is, then." They continued driving throughout the entire night, only stopping for bathroom breaks.

**Two miles east, large forest area, next morning**

The four teenage boys packed their meager belongings. Stowing each of their signature weapons, the group set out. Andrew took the lead, Thom next, then Eric, and finally Owen. Each of them kept a vigilant watch over the surrounding trees. Hunters, Smokers, and other monstrosities liked to wait in the tall pine trees. For several minutes, none of them noticed any change. Suddenly, a loud, hacking cough sounded loudly through the woods. The boys tensed; a Smoker was nearby. It was then that Owen spotted something. "Andrew!" The other three looked to where Owen was pointing. Lying on the ground was a mortally wounded Smoker. It's single eye looked at the four survivors as they cautiously approached, lest it be a trap.

As they came closer, the Smoker let out a death rattle, and exploded in a cloud of smoke. The guys started to cough loudly. "Ack, blegh, eww!" The group spluttered in the fog of smoke, until it dissipated into the air. Andrew, recovering from a coughing fit, stared at the dead man. He was covered in bruises and claw marks, still bleeding profusely. His gaze wandered to the Smoker's cold hands. In his left fist, a curled sheet of paper lay. Bending down, Andrew yanked the piece of paper out of the stiff fingers. It was a map. "Hey guys, look at this!" Getting over their coughing fits, the three curious teens came to look at the map Andrew had discovered. It showed all the nearby towns, and some new ones the boys had never heard of, such as "Newhaven" and "Portersville." Thom noticed something, and pointed it out. Eric looked at the small icon representing the closest town, only about four miles northwest. "Cherrygrove..." He muttered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again everybody! Thanks for sticking with the story so far. There isn't much else to say, other than this. Someone (Bravo918 – thanks for the review man) asked just how many of the characters I actually know. Well, Render is me, his group are made up, and the other group of survivors – Andrew, Owen, Thom, and Eric – are actual people, my friends, who have let me use their names and appearances in my story as characters. And to anyone wondering, you'll find my name out soon enough, possibly next chapter if not now.**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead.**

**Northern New Jersey woodland area, heading due northwest**

Together, our second group of heroes trudged along the land, determined on reaching the town of Cherrygrove. Individually, each boy had thoughts about the strange new town that had appeared on the map. When they discussed it, the teens had decided that it was simply a town that had been rebuilt, but was now overrun with zombies, according to the map that said the area had a population of several thousand infected. How this had happened, when, and how the cartographer knew the population of zombies was still a mystery.

Warily, the boys held a tight circle should any hostile creatures appear. Andrew cut through the thick plant life, using his machete to clear a path. They had been traveling for a few hours know, and they had yet to find a road or dirt path at the very least. Eric scanned the canopy, listen to the few birds singing among the trees. Andrew continued hacking at the bushes, when he suddenly spotted an old cabin. "Hey guys! An old cabin, let's search it before we keep moving." Taking out their well used tools of destruction, the four crept up to the front porch quietly in crouched positions. Eric took the lead, bashing the door open with his golf club, checking the living room. "It's clear," He called over his shoulder. Cautiously, the survivors spread through the house, searching for supplies and infected. Thom pushed a creaky door open slowly, guitar at the ready for anything. He looted the room, checking drawers, patting down the mattress, opening the dresser. In all, he found a bowie knife, three shotgun shells, and a five dollar bill. Before he was about to leave, Thom noticed an unchecked closet. He pulled the door open, and to his delight, found just what the group needed.

"OH MY GOD! A DOUBLE BARREL SHOTGUN! WEEEEHEHEHEEE!" The cry echoed around the house. Everyone else came to inspect their friend's find. Cradled in Thom's arms was a sawed-off double barrel shotgun, worn with age. "I found a box of forty shells with it, and three more in the dresser!" Thom said ecstatically. The other three were jealous that he got the first gun that was found. Continuing the looting, Andrew, Eric and Owen looked with renewed vigor to find the next long range weapon. Owen got the next. "Cool!" He shouted. "A revolver with thirty-six shots!" Now Andrew and Eric were getting pissed. Why didn't they get guns? It just seemed that the universe wanted them to suffer today.

In all, the boys found the two guns, along with some money and food. Eric and Andrew pouted as they left the house; the pair had found nothing usable as a weapon at all. They regrouped at the front of the old cabin, and without a backward glance, the four were off walking again. Andrew began humming to the tune of Beauty of Annihilation by Elena Siegman in an attempt to lighten his mood. Soon afterward, all of them were humming along to the beat of the song. It made all of them feel better morally, doing such a simple and enjoyable activity as they walked to an almost certain bloodbath. It took one's mind off of the terrors of reality and the near future.

After another hour of walking and snacking, the four began to see a thinning in the trees. They were spread further and further, until eventually the boys had reached a deserted, cracked highway path. Bones, metal, and gas lay everywhere. The stench of rotting meat was powerful in the teens noses, making the four gag and choke on the sickly sweet smell. Eric retched in a bush, Thom puked on the ground, Owen's face was green, and Andrew was gasping for breath. They weren't used to the smell, as they had only ever encountered fresh corpses. It was an awakening for them, telling them that the battle for humanities survival had lasted for a much longer time than it felt. After becoming used to the horrid stench of rotten flesh, the quartet followed the highway, deciding that it was much more likely to lead to Cherrygrove than an empty patch of woods.

Half an hour passed, and there was still no sign (literally) of how to reach Cherrygrove. Andrew signaled for a break, and gathered everyone around to consult the map. "OK," He said. "We are somewhere over here," Andrew pointed to a winding gray stripe, "and Cherrygrove is over here." He poked a spot about half a mile from their current position, in the north. "According to the little scale, we are almost there. But, there is a horde that lives in the area right before we hit the town. So are you guys ready for this?" Andrew looked up, and was met with three determined nods. Each of the boys had a fire in his eyes; a town always presented a chance for supplies, rescue, recruitment and rest. Andrew smirked at his friends and said, "Just like the game, am I right?" The teens cracked some smiles at this statement. Even in the end of the world, happiness, friendship and a family could be found.

Andrew held his fist out. "For salvation," He said, smiling at his school buddies from behind a curtain of filth and viscera. They bumped their fists together, turned around, and began the long walk to another living hell. As their lost friend had said at the beginning of the outbreak, "Never give up! We may go down, but we'll go in a blaze of glory!" Each of them were intent on following his words. If they had to, the survivors would die, but they would sure as hell take as many of the freaks as possible.

**Pickup truck, approaching second group's position**

The truck was filled with an awkward silence. The five had nearly reached Cherrygrove, and no one wanted to jinx anything by talking. Render continued steering, while the others did their own little things. Ripper snoozed, laying next to Screen. The infected sisters were assembling the supplies. Andrew was in deep thought, when a realization hit him like a truck. "Everyone," He said, gaining the other passenger's attention, "what am I gonna do when we get to this place? I'm a survivor, I kill infected every day just to keep living..." His voice sadly trailed off. Render piped up. "Andrew, we aren't gonna leave you behind, if that's what you think. We would never leave behind a friend." The dejected soldier looked up with new hope. "Really?" He asked. Screen smiled kindly at him. "Of course. You're family now, we couldn't leave you to be killed!" Jenna nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you may be loud and annoying, but we ain't ditching you, grandpa." Jenna smirked as Andrew glared at her.

Render peered out the window at an anomaly in the road. "Guys, I think we're almost there! Get ready, we may be in for a fight." Andrew loaded a bullet into his AK47's chamber, Jenna flexed her claws, Screen readied her lasso-like tongue, and Ripper bared his teeth. Render smiled at his friends. They were definitely going to be a force to reckon with. He quickly checked the magazine in his modified Uzi. It was fully loaded, and his ammo pack was next to him on the passenger seat. Render returned his attention to the road as to avoid crashing. As he zoomed along, a familiar sound reached his ears. Gunfire. Render pushed the truck to it's limits, hoping he was fast enough.

**Group B, five minutes ago**

The boys were crouched, crawling towards the large horde. They were upwind, so the foursome had the element of surprise. Andrew pulled his machete out, Thom thumbed in two shells into his shotgun, Eric grabbed his golf club, and Owen checked his revolver's chamber. Andrew looked at the guys. In turn, they each nodded, letting him know they were ready to fight. "Owen, try to snipe that Hunter over there." He whispered. In all, there were about thirty Commons, two Hunters, a Smoker, and a Spitter. No match for the well-equipped adolescents. Owen gave him a thumbs up, peeking over the small hill they were sheltered behind. Raising the weapon, Owen lined it up with the Hunter's unmoving head, and squeezed the trigger. The round flew straight and true, hitting the special infected in the temple, killing it instantly. The remaining undead turned their heads at once towards the survivors.

Charging down the hill, our heroes ran screaming to their foes. The horde gave a rivaling screech, dashing towards the non-infected. In a ground shaking rumble, the two forces hit each other. Andrew sliced a woman's head off, wheeled around, and cut through the chest of a charging Common. Thom slowed to a stop as the zombies rushed him, blowing away a group of them with a well aimed blast. Owen stood back, shooting the chests and heads of the undead, occasionally reloading. Eric bashed the Smoker over the head, spilling it's brains everywhere. He swung again, taking out a pair of infected next to him. It was a brutal melee, between the living and dead. Bodies toppled, blood spurted, and yells of pain were heard. And yet the waves of creatures kept on coming.

Andrew just swung madly, attempting to pull back slightly. He spotted Thom being torn at by a Hunter, when he blew out it's stomach with a shotgun shell at point blank. Eric was mercilessly taking off limbs with his golf club, when he was tripped by a body. Eric fell to the ground, and watched a zombie approach him. Owen shot it, causing blood to coat his downed friend. Eric jumped back up and killed an opportunist infected trying to bite him. Owen spotted the hideous Spitter, and fired at her. She dodged, but flew back in a bloody heap when Thom took off her face. The number of enemies began to thin, allowing the boys a slight reprieve.

After another few minutes of hard battling, the horde had finally been destroyed. The survivors were covered in scratches and claw marks, but were otherwise fine. Thom had twenty-two shells left, and Owen had only thirteen bullets remaining. However, the group was just lucky that there was no Tank. They didn't have nearly enough stopping power for that. Sitting on the ground, Eric began laughing. Then, a few moments later, everyone was joyously chuckling, happy to be alive after that encounter. Unfortunately, fate was not agreeing with them today. As the four sat giggling, a tremble ran through the ground. The boys froze, as any sane person knew what the rumbling signaled. "TANK!"

**Group A, en route to Group B**

Render's passengers had heard the weapons discharging in the distance as well. They braced themselves, as Render had relayed that he was going to ram the zombies. Render bent himself over the steering wheel, willing the truck to go as fast as possible. He came over a hill, and saw a terrifying sight. Four figures, standing in a field soaked with the blood of the fallen, were running for their lives from an enraged Tank. Render swerved around them, seeing familiar faces with shocked and confused looks. He gritted his teeth, flying towards the Tank. The huge pink monster seemed to pause in uncertainty at the truck barreling at it's face. This distraction gave Render the time he needed. He slammed into the Tank so fast that the hood shattered into fragments. Every -one and -thing in the back was thrown from the vehicle. The metal splintered like wood, throwing fragments into the Tank's skull. It gave a low, deep groan, and toppled over backwards.

Render slid out of the driver's seat, falling on the ground in a wounded pile. The four survivor's stood, dumbfounded, at the sight before them. A group of what appeared to be infected had just drove straight into a Tank, one of the toughest zombies, and killed it. A young girl moaned and rolled over. She had a huge tongue, with tumors on the left side of her face. Another nearby female lay on her back, claws lying limply to the sides of her hood-covered face. A man wearing a tattered army uniform was holding his head in pain on his stomach. A huge dog had it's legs in the air, tongue lolling out of it's mouth. And last but not least, a Hunter that had a Witches claws was on the hard earth in a fetal position.

The teens stood, blinking, before leaping into action. Just because these...people...had saved them didn't mean much when more than half of them were infected. Thom pointed his scatter gun at the dogs head, Eric pinned the adult man to the ground, Owen covered the Smoker and Hunter, and Andrew took care of the hybrid zombie. He approached carefully, not wishing to be mauled. Andrew poked the creature, and it tilted with a groan. Andrew stepped back, gasping in shock. He had thought that he would never see the face of this person ever again. The others noticed Andrew's strange behavior, and came to look at what was wrong. "What is it Andrew? What happened?" Andrew could only point and stare, wide-eyed, at the infected on the ground. Thom walked over, and said in a bored tone, "Come on, he can't be that ugly-" Thom stopped mid-sentence, and his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

Thom fell back, stuttering furiously. "No, n-no, it's not possible, no..." Owen and Eric, worried at their friends behavior, wanted to know what caused them to act like this. During their inspection, the former captives had gotten up to see the survivors crowded around their leader. One boy looked as if he were about to faint, the other was sitting on his ass in shock, and the other two were gaping at Render. "Holy shit..." Eric said in a whisper. They all said the same thing at once, which confused the infected and soldier: "Connor!"

Andrew and Thom regained their composure, and moved beside their lost friend. Connor; their former leader, friend, and the boy who had decided to hold off the infected long enough for the rest of them to escape to safety. Render's eyes popped open and he groaned miserably. "Ugh...my head..." That was when he looked up. "No way...am I dead?" Andrew laughed. "Nope, your still alive!" Render's face cracked into a huge grin. "GUYS!" The survivors smiled down at their friend who was missing for so long. Then, Render realized they could see his claws and eyes. His face fell, replaced by panic, and said quickly, "U-umm, I-I can explain this..."

Thom shook his head. "Don't worry Connor. It's alright with us!" Render looked at Thom disbelief, and was about to ask why, when he felt a searing pain in his skull. He grasped his head, and waited for the pain to subside. _Why did that just happen? Oh wait, Thom said my name. I guess the infection tried to erase that from me... _His old school pals looked at Render in worry. "What's wrong Connor?" Owen asked. Render told him, "You said my name. The infection, it...made me forget it." Render looked down in shame. Eric patted his back in a comforting manner. "Don't worry, we'll be here to help!" He said confidently. Andrew tentatively asked, "So...who are these guys?"

Render said, "They're my friends...and if they call me Render don't be surprised." Andrew smirked. "So, if your part Witch, I wonder what that means..." Render scowled angrily at his laughing friends, and cuffed Andrew on the back of his head with his palm for suggesting he was gay **(A/N: There is nothing wrong people who are gay. He just constantly makes gay jokes at school, so I tried to include his personality in this.)**. Render jogged over to Screen and Jenna, helping them up as Andrew (the soldier) and Ripper got up on their own. "Guys, this is Screen, short for Smoke Screen, Jenna, Ripper, and old Andrew. Jenna and Screen are sisters." He pointed to each of the mentioned people when he said their names. Render turned to soldier-Andrew. "We're going to have to call you something else, otherwise it will get confusing. How 'bout Jackson? It is your last name." The man sighed. "Fine whatever," He grumbled. **(A/N: Soldier-Andrew is now going to be referred to as Jackson, and Render is going to be called BOTH Connor and Render.) **Render jabbed his thumb at the teens. "Everyone, this is Owen, Andrew, Thom, and Eric. They're my friends from school." He did something similar to when he introduced the new group to the old one.

They two groups sat in an awkward silence when Jenna broke the silence. "Well, what do we do now? Our map was in the truck _you _totaled, Render." Render thought about this, then turned to Andrew. "Do you guys have a map?" Andrew fished around in his back pocket. He handed the copy of the map to Render. "We found it on a dying Smoker, Connor." Render slowly unfolded the map, checking their large group's current position. "OK, we need to go north for a few hundred feet, and we should hit Cherrygrove." Render rerolled the map. "I'm guessing you guys were heading there too?" Andrew nodded to show that Render was correct.

Render thought for a second, then turned to the corpse of the Tank and ruined truck. Render walked over by the destroyed vehicle. He picked up the supplies that had been scattered in the crash, and put them in one heap. Thom ran over, grabbed the Mini-14, and tossed the shotgun. Eric picked up the double barrel and shells. Owen ditched his revolver for the Glocks, and Andrew took the revolver. Jackson retrieved his AK47 and ammo pack. Each of them inspected their weapons, grabbing the associated ammo. Render sighed unhappily. He had lost his ammo in the crash, leaving him with only a single magazine.

"Alright, we need to tell you guys some stuff first." The second group looked curious as to the news their leader had. "Cherrygrove is a town for Sentients – sane infected. The five of you-" Render pointed to the survivors and soldier. "-may not be welcome there. Sentients hold grudges, just like humans. So, stick close, and me, Screen, and Jenna will keep you safe. 'K? Good. Let's get moving." Render started walking in the direction of Cherrygrove. The others scrambled to match his long, determined strides. The humans stood on one side of him, and the infected plus Jackson walked on Render's opposite side. The hybrid stopped and sighed impatiently. "We can't work like a team if the rest of you won''t at least try and get to know each other." The four teens eyed the infected cautiously; they trusted Render, as they had known him for years, but the others, not so much.

Finally, Owen whispered something in Andrew's ear, and the two of them got huge, devilish grins on their faces as the group continued moving. They walked up to Screen, who was a bit frightened by the looks on their faces. _Oh crap, I forgot Screen and Jenna were only sixteen, and Andrew and Owen were pervs... _Render thought as he saw them move. Screen nervously smiled at the boys, who stood walking on either side of her. Andrew started speaking. "So, Screen, how old are you?" Screen's eyes widened and she replied shakily, "S-sixteen." Owen said, failing to keep the laugh out of his voice, "A-are you sure? I-I mean, that tongue must be good for..." Jenna and Render both shut him and Andrew up by clamping their mouths tightly shut with their hands. "Leave my sister alone," Jenna growled threateningly. Eric and Thom tensed; Eric slowly pulled out his shotgun, and Thom lifted his rifle ever so slightly.

"Knock it off, all of you! Stop being so damn suspicious! Jenna, let Andrew go, and you two, put away your weapons! We're almost there anyways." Render spoke as they reached the top of a hill. Below them, a town sat, nestled in a small valley with another forest separating it from the world.. It glowed brightly, reflecting the hope of the weary travelers looking down upon it. Everyone's face had a smile upon it. Ripper barked happily, racing down the side of the mound of dirt. Render, then everybody else followed him. Finally, just what they were looking for.

Several minutes later, the group was calmly walking through the forest that lay in their path. All of them were on alert, discretely watching the scenery, ready for almost anything. Jackson's grip tightened on his assault rifle's handle. The battle hardened young man believed he had heard a cough. Tensing, Jackson held up his hand to get the rest of the group's attention. "Everyone wait up," He said nervously. "I think I heard something-" Jackson was cut off by a tongue latching onto him, very similar to what had happened to his sergeant. He was pulled, yelling and struggling, into the trees. Lightning fast, four more Smoker tongues flew out of their hiding places, grabbing Eric, Andrew, Thom, and Owen, holding them in place. Jackson dropped out of the leaves of a tree, hanging like a pinata suspended in the air.

Render whipped out his Uzi, turning in slow circles, searching for hostiles. Jenna held her claws out to the sides, an angry snarl upon her face. Screen furrowed her brow, and hissed at the bushes. Growling quietly, a trio of Hunters crept out of the shrubs, staring intently at the strange infected before them. What was the matter? Hadn't they just saved these fellow Sentients from the humans captivity? The confused Hunters looked at one another, just as Render lashed out at them after stowing his gun. As the first of their number was punched with immense force, the unnamed Sentients realized their mistake: The survivors had been traveling with them, and when the scouts had ensnared them, the Sentients in their group had perceived the infected guards as threats. They had no choice but to fight now, as the Smoker and Huntress joined their strange Witch-like companion. Screen picked a Hunter up by the leg, throwing the yelping infected into a tree. The Huntress pounced her fellow special infected, performing an uppercut and then slamming her elbow into his face in quick succession. The zombie Render had knocked back painfully arose, screeching angrily at Render. They leaped at the same time, landing in a mass of thrashing limbs and flying claws.

As the creatures scuffled, Eric tugged at the slimy rope around his body. If he could just reach his shotgun... A little closer... There! Eric grasped his weapon, and prayed to every god he knew as he pointed the loaded weapon at the tongue holding Andrew. He fired, and by some unearthly miracle, the slug passed through the tongue, leaving Andrew completely unharmed. Realizing he was free, Andrew quickly set about freeing the others. Lashing out with his machete, the teen cut through all of the appendages at once. Turning, Andrew raised his revolver, and shot the tongue holding Jackson in the air. The man collapsed, stood up, and pulled out his rifle. The other survivors also released the safeties of their guns.

Pointing the firearms at the mass of zombie flesh fighting on the ground at the same time, Andrew shouted, "Stop, or we shoot!" Jenna froze in mid punch, Screen halted the literal shaking down of her opponent, and Render looked up from slamming his foe's head into the earth's crust. Each of the infected stopped moving as they saw the angered survivors pointing guns at them. Render, Screen, and Jenna disengaged from their enemies, nursing the injuries they earned. The Hunters did likewise, as the cautious Smokers came down from the trees due to the guns now pointed at them. Jackson poked hs rifle at the nearest Smoker. "Why did you attack us?" The Smoker replied, "We thought 'cough' that you were holding those three 'cough' captive." Render noticed the infected man was releasing more smoke than normal, a byproduct of his nervousness.

Render spoke, "Are you from Cherrygrove then?" The Smoker nodded reluctantly. "Good; that's where we were heading anyways. You gonna take us there or what?" Render had very little patience for his uneasy allies with good intentions. The Hunters and Smokers looked at each other, not used to being ordered around by a kid. Render began tapping his foot impatiently, his bright red eyes turning into a darker shade of deep maroon. Not wishing to be pounded into a pulp, the Hunters pushed the other scouts towards the town, looking back over their shoulders fearfully every so often. Render followed their lead, managing to look smug and bored at the same time. His friends took nervous glances at each other; they didn't really like their friend's scary side.

After the little skirmish, the guards from Cherrygrove were much more wary of the group they were bringing in. One Hunter had a black eye and broken nose, the other had a fractured rib or two, and the last one had a hard time breathing after being strangled by Screen. They had to hurry, or the feral infected of the forest would be drawn to the noise and find them. The leader, the Smoker who had lassoed Jackson, sped up, determined to make it back to town without anymore mishaps. His power walk was interrupted, however, when he ran straight into a tree. Picking himself off the ground, the Smoker realized this tree was a greyish tan, and was breathing deeply. A wave of disgusting air seeped over the zombie, causing him to tremble uncontrollably.

Their guides had gotten farther ahead of the group after several minutes. Render was almost fuming as he believed they had ditched them in the forest. He was about to go psycho-Witch on the scouts next time he saw them. Render's train of thought was interrupted though when the three Hunters and five Smokers were sent flying into the trees. The nine survivors (well, Render and the other infected counted themselves as survivors too) emerged into a clearing, where a terrifying sight was to behold. A Haggard stood in the center of the opening, growling at the newcomers. This Haggard was just as disgusting as the rest. It was as large as a Tank, with huge bulging muscles. Five foot long pieces of jagged metal pointed out of it's back at odd and random angles. The creature's jaw was like a Spitters: sagging, and almost completely gone, only a small bleeding part left. The Haggard was hunched over, as it's body was much longer than a Tank's, with it's knuckles in the dirt.

Render yelled out orders as the freak of nature drew closer. "Screen, Ripper and Jenna, stay back, everyone else, shoot it!" Pulling out their assortment of firearms, the six males released burning metal hell upon the Haggard. Andrew and Owen shot at it's eyes, trying to blind it. Jackson and Render attempted to blow out the Haggard's left elbow, while Eric and Thom did the same with the other arm. The survivors were constantly moving, dodging massive arms and spear-like hunks of metal thrown at them. Slowly but surely, they were able to push it back. One of the Haggard's eyes was gone, and it's left arm was hanging uselessly at the creatures side. It gave a roar of desperation, knowing it was defeated. However, Jackson wasn't ready to give up yet. Pulling out the pipe bomb he had somehow managed to keep in his backpack this entire time, along with the lighter, he started the fuse, and tossed it in the furious creature's maw. The Haggard closed it's mouth, a confused look on it's face, just as it's head exploded. Blood, skull fragments, and brains fell down on the group.

**I don't think I'm very good with fight scenes, so if this wasn't the best, don't be surprised. It's my first time, so yeah. Anyways, don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead or Breaking Benjamin.**

Andrew and Owen stood still, attempting to wipe the blood and gore from their already extremely filthy glasses. Render flicked a droplet of the life-giving liquid off his claws and onto the blood-soaked grass. What little remained of the Haggard lay face first, it's soulless eyes glazed over even more so. Jackson spit on the corpse, before turning to his allies. "I guess we should find our guides?" Andrew and Render glanced at each other and nodded to the older man. Jackson hefted his AK47 onto his shoulder and looked over his shoulder. He set off quickly, not waiting for the rest to catch up. Jackson just wanted to get out of this forest and find somewhere (relatively) safe for him so he could take a warm shower and go to sleep. Everybody else followed the impatient soldier as he sped towards the trees they had emerged from.

Render ran straight into Jackson's back when he abruptly stopped. The man was deathly pale, like a sheet of paper. Render peeked over Jackson's shoulder to behold a grisly scene. Apparently while they had been fighting the behemoth, the injured and weary scouts from Cherrygrove had fought a miniature horde. All of them lay slaughtered in various positions. Even Render couldn't bear the sight. He moved away and barfed the little nutrients in his stomach onto a defenseless shrub. Jackson blocked the others view when they attempted to look at what caused their leader so much distress. However, the soldier pushed everyone back towards the path they had been following. Render caught up a minute later after making himself as decent as possible. The dismembered Sentients had reminded him of the last time he had played Dead Space. Gore was everywhere and the fallen lay, still bleeding, in the dirt. The stench of death clung to the exhausted survivors as they dragged their feet in the direction of Cherrygrove.

It popped into their nine minds that if they didn't get to the town soon, they would be dead by the next day. All of them were to tired to even argue or crack jokes, just call out orders as they moved forward relentlessly. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of beams of light and the pursuing smell of rotten flesh, Render saw an opening in the oxygen-giving plants. He rushed forward, the group in tow. Render burst through the trees like a hornet bursts out of it's nest in defense. A huge grin lit up his face as he gazed around the town. It was a beautiful sight to all of them. A huge, ten-foot wall separated them from Cherrygrove, with the roofs of modern houses poking above the top. A gate with two bored looking infected guards was nestled in the wall to their left. They jogged towards the guards, happy smiles and sighs of relief galore. The first guard noticed them coming, and straightened up. He glared at them suspiciously as the nine approached quickly. The second guard snored loudly from under his hood.

Render took the lead as they reached the large gate. The first guard asked, "How can I help you today?" That was when he realized they were accompanied by non-infected. "What are _they _doing here!" He screeched, outraged. The man was about to go insane when he noticed that he couldn't breathe. He gagged painfully, grasping at the slimy tongue around his throat. Screen narrowed her eye at the guard hatefully, and said in an icy tone, "They are with _us. _And now, you are gonna open that gate before I make you. Got it?" He nodded faintly, wheezing pitifully. Screen gave him a hard stare one more time, and released him. Everyone was in shock. It was near impossible to piss off Screen, as she was the shy and quiet one of the zombie-slayers. The guard pulled a lever, causing the gate to grind upward. The group walked in silently, awed by the sight that greeted their arrival.

Infected roamed the streets, totally relaxed and not trying to kill survivors. Younger infected, the children and teens, played in the yards and hung out with gangs of their friends. The sound of laughter, conversations, and everyday items being used was music to our heroes ears. All of them missed the simple things that had made life so perfect and easy. But as the citizens of Cherrygrove took notice of the new arrivals, all of this stopped. Teens looked at them with wide eyes, mouths everywhere hung open, and children stared at them curiously. The group was quite a spectacle to glimpse at any rate. All of them were covered in gore and dirt. Five were humans scanning the town with amazed looks. The other four were Sentients who were doing the same action. One even appeared to be a male Witch. Most shocking was the fact that they were not shooting and clawing at each other. As the nine moved towards the center of town, the crowds fell silent and slid to the sides of the road. Soon, nearly the whole town was watching them travel to town square.

Some were brave enough to instigate them. The shadier members of town jeered and hissed at them. Suddenly, a Spiker flanked by two of his lackies pushed through the masses. He stood in front of Render, a scowl on his face. With a hushed voice, he asked, "What do you think gives you the right to bring _humans _into our town, kid?" The infected on the sidelines muttered amongst themselves at this statement. Render's mouth flipped into a disapproving frown, and he pulled down his hood. Some of the bystanders gasped at the sight of his blood red eyes drilling holes into the older infected. "They're my friends, and I trust them. Unlike you, on the other hand." Render mentally chuckled as the Spiker began to grow angrier. "Well, I don't think they deserve to be here," He hissed menacingly. Render stepped forward. "Then you go through me." He declared with concealed anger.

The Spiker forced the purple quills out of his pale skin as they gleamed with a paralyzing poison. "Bring it," Render said quietly, arms crossed. The Spiker snarled and charged towards Render. Render leaped over his head, landing on the confused creature's back. Raising his hand, Render dug his claws into the Spiker's shoulder with a snarl. Before his opponent could react, Render yanked out his claws and slashed downward. The blow connected with the other infected man's lower arm, severing the muscles and causing the limb to become limb. The Spiker whipped his arm around, bashing Render in the head and knocking him off. The Spiker threw his quills at the downed teen. Render jumped back as the toxic-infused weapons buried themselves into the concrete. Render pounced on his counterpart, pinning him to the ground. He followed with a powerful uppercut to the jaw,and then brought his claws down to the Spiker's neck. He held them there as the man struggled against the younger males iron grip. He relaxed, and said, "You win." Render lifted himself up off the prone infected.

However, as Render faced his brothers in arms once more, the humiliated Spiker rose up and threw three projectiles towards Render's exposed back. He yelled as the spikes embedded themselves in his vulnerable back. Render began slowing down from pain and the poison. Jenna screeched in rage, leaping onto the Spiker and smashing his face into the asphalt. Thom and Eric pointed their weapons at the two advancing infected lackeys come to help their leader, stopping them in their tracks. Render reached back, and with an angry snarl, ripped out the numbing quills. Tossing them aside, he looked up just in time to see a Tank drag the hissing and spitting Jenna off the beaten Spiker. The massive zombie dropped Jenna on the ground none too carefully. In a deep rumbling voice, he said in an irritated tone, "Stop, all of you. Right now." He pointed a meaty finger at Render who was doubled over in pain and wincing. " What is wrong with you? Why did no one help?" The Tank looked back at the wounded teen. "All newcomers, follow me."

Several minutes later, Render was applying a health kit to his quickly-healing cuts and the group was relaxing in the hotel that travelers used when passing by. The owner, the Tank who had intervened named Clark, was letting them stay in his rooms while they regained their strength. Render lounged on the couch, trying to not upset his wounds. Everyone was eating something, attempting to substitute the lack of nutrients gained over the course of the past few days. It was very taxing, defeating the apocalypse and trying to remain somewhat normal. Of course, by this time and age, "normal" was a very relative term. Render inhaled and sighed deeply; he was beginning to tire of running and walking so much. Why couldn't he be older, so they could just DRIVE everywhere? _Oh wait, _Render thought sluggishly. _I CAN drive. Whoops... _Moaning lightly, he turned over to lay on his face. Clark entered the room, gazing with slight amusement at the exhausted hybrid lying on the furniture. He looked at the members of the group that were awake.

"Cherrygrove is a hub of information." Clark began. "We get reports from all over the areas resettled by the Sentients along the East Coast. According to the young lady over here," Clark motioned towards Screen, "your destination is the main infected city, Hard Rain. Now, as almost all of you know, Hard Rain was constructed adjacent to the ruins of Philadelphia. In this area, many groups of survivors and Sentients roam in an attempt to escape the city." Clark carefully unrolled the map on the floor. "Near the edge of the city, there are two main groups. They are actually traveling around the nearby towns, but it is possible they are heading to Philadelphia as well for the safety of Hard Rain and the evacs. The two dominant groups are a pack of Sentients traveling with a young survivor who is, supposedly, a peacemaker between the factions. Then we have a group of four survivors, an old war veteran, a biker, a business manager, and a college student moving around in the area."

Everyone raised their eyebrows at the mention of Bill, Francis, Louis, and Zoey from the original groundbreaking Left 4 Dead game in the series. But this little tidbit of info was forgotten as they realized that somehow, a survivor was able to stop fighting between the wartorn and wary humans and those who met the wrath of their deadly weapons. Render, who was awake the whole time thought to himself, _Hmmm... very interesting... The survivors from the first game and a negotiating human? This is obviously not going to turn out very well... _That was when Eric piped up. "Errr... How did you get all of that info?" Clark chuckled at the boy's valid question. "We have scouts that keep us up to date on what's left of the world. That, and the travelers help too." Everyone nodded at the logic in his statement.

Render stood up, stretching, and announced, "Well everyone, let's hit the hay. We gotta keep moving soon, so take advantage of what there is here. Thanks for letting us stay, Clark." The Tank grunted in acknowledgment and said, "Your welcome." The weary survivors trudged up to their shared rooms, all of them enjoying a nice shower and hot meal. Even Ripper seemed happy to take a bath. Render sighed as he scrubbed his entire body clean with a washcloth protecting his torso from his claws. It had been at least two weeks since he had time to enjoy this pleasure in life. Render sighed as he realized that this time, he may be in over his head. How were seven teens, a dog, and a young adult supposed to make it across a wasteland filled with dying memories and the howls of cannibal monsters?

Growling to himself, Render began thinking about the one thing he wanted the most right now: an iPod. That way he could slaughter zombies and listen to some awesome music in the background. _Maybe Clark has one I can trade for? _Render thought hopefully. Shaking his head, Render cleared these thoughts from his mind as he strode out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. Placing his filthy clothes on the bed, Render dug around in his backpack for the pair of running shorts and t-shirt he kept in the front pocket. Pulling out the clothes, he yanked them over his body along with fresh underwear. Tying his shoes (_very very carefully, _with his claw tips), Render yelled out that he was going to explore, and he exited through the main lobby. Render found himself smiling up at the sunless sky in bliss, overjoyed at just being able to relax. He bunched up his leg muscles, and leaped onto the roof of the hotel. While before the infection Render had never practiced _parkour_, he had fallen into the adrenaline-filled activity after becoming part Hunter.

Render dashed forward, and leaped to the next roof. He found that even exhausted, he had plenty of energy for personal time. On it went, Render letting out a joyous laugh along the way. After several minutes, he stopped on a rooftop far away from his starting point. Doubled over, he smiled and steadied his breathing. Render hadn't felt this good for a long time. It was constant worry, fighting, or both. A little break from it all had helped him tremendously. Render tried to find out his location by looking around at the buildings. He decided that he should head back soon, so he took off across the roofs in the direction he had come from. "I am so hungry right now," he said wistfully. "Wish I had some McDonald's right about now..."

Meanwhile, back at the little hotel, Andrew sat at the foot of his bed. He still found it hard to believe that Connor, his best friend and leader, had become one of their enemies. _Well, not really, he still helps us._ Andrew corrected himself. Getting up with a grunt, he decided to do something, anything, to alleviate his boredom. Shoot something, blow up a random object, he was in the mood for action. After several months of fighting, the drama of leaving what remained of the world, and ending back up in the remains of his once great country _again,_ was taking it's toll on Andrew and the other teenage boys. They were still practically kids, for God's sake. Shaking his head slowly, Andrew exited his room and decided to go see Thom.

"Whatcha doin' Thom?" Andrew asked curiously as Thom looked up from his work. "Nothing," Thom replied, "Just cleaning this old knife I found back in that cabin we checked." Andrew inspected Thom's find. It was a classic Bowie knife, the size of a short sword, broad blade, large hand guard, and spikes on the hand guard. It reminded Andrew of the good old times when he would play Nazi Zombies on COD with his pals. Gutting zombies, blowing them up, shooting them, all the stuff they did now in reality. Thom admired his second melee weapon with a smile, and placed it on his mattress. Thom reached over and picked up his Mini-14, and began cleaning that. His guitar was splintered and ruined, with almost no hope of ever playing or using it as a club again. Thom halted his activity once again, and gave a depressed sigh at the pathetic sight that was his original melee tool. He would have to trash it soon. Maybe he could get a new one, perhaps something better?

Andrew glanced at his saddened friend and was glad he had a steel blade that was less likely to break. He told Thom, "Let's go see if Clark has any better guns we could use." Thom looked up and said, "Whatever." Thom stowed his cleaning rag he found in the bathroom and stood as Andrew rounded up the other firearm using members of their team. Together, the five tromped down the stairs and over to Clark. The Tank looked up from his newspaper and asked, "What can I help you guys with?" Andrew asked unabashedly, "Do you have any better guns? We need ammo and better weapons." Clark thought for a moment, and then replied, "Check the storage closet. I do have some survivor's leftover stuff in there." The guys moved out, determined to get more guns. Clark called to their retreating backs, "You owe me!" They reached their destination, and when Andrew opened the closet, they all gaped in awe. Inside the closet was what any survivor dreamed about finding. Guns, health items, bombs, everything someone could possibly need nowadays. With grins that would make the Cheshire Cat proud, they began looting the closet. All of them grabbed health kits, ammo, and ammo for Render's Uzi. Jackson grabbed a bile bomb and adrenaline shot, Andrew took pain pills and a molotov, Eric pills and a pipe bomb, Owen adrenaline and a molotov, and Thom pills and a bile bomb. They snatched Render a molotov and adrenaline, as they figured it would be funny to see him bouncing around wildly. The ecstatic survivors walked back to their rooms with their treasures, dropping off the items for Render along the way.

While this was all happening, Screen was lying on her bed, thinking of what to do to pass the time. Her wandering thoughts took her to the five younger boys, a picture of each of them smiling stuck in her brain. _Great, _Screen thought with amusement. _Five guys, and all of them younger than me. I just can't win. _She thought over each of them, then Jackson, Ripper, and Jenna. She figured that she could trust all of them. Again, she thought of the boys, but this time Andrew and Render stayed there longer. Out of all of them, those two were relatively the least strange. There was Andrew, glasses and perverted jokes, and Render, the easy to anger leader who barely talked unless it was important. "UGH!" Screen moaned angrily and flopped over, her face buried in the pillow. _Damn you girly thoughts..._ she thought miserably.

Next door, Jenna was cleaning the blood form under her sharp claws. Despite being the tomboy and a hardcore badass, she had to stay good looking. It was in her nature. She flicked the dried liquid off her finger, and it floated down to the carpet like sawdust. She was silently contemplating current events while grooming herself. First they meet the rumored psycho hybrid, then a soldier and zombie dog, THEN a bunch of bumbling idiot boys. Now they were heading to the biggest populated city currently in America, with thousands if not millions of insane cannibals along the way. Despite her cold attitude, she did care about the others in her group, even the dog, Ripper. She had no wish to see her newfound friends dead or eaten. Before the infection, she had lost enough people to last a lifetime. Her boyfriend, friends from school, her family except for Screen... It just wasn't worth the heartbreak seeing someone she knew die.

The entire time all of these miniature adventures were taking place, Ripper was on his own journey. However, it was not as deep as his master's wishes. No, Ripper simply was hungry and wanted something to eat. The infected dog padded down the hallway, looking at everything while panting loudly. Suddenly, Ripper caught a whiff of a scent that reminded him of the food he and Render would find in the forsaken ACME. Ripper was a very smart dog, and while he could not speak, Ripper still knew many things. Ripper thought sadly of his former home, where he and his boy would search for food and exercise every day. It had been difficult, but much more peaceful than the lives they led now. Ripper remembered before his old masters had become pale and growled like him, seeing Render and his friends around town, hanging out and occasionally going out to the local store to buy snacks.

The canine followed the scent of roasting flesh, and found himself in the kitchen. Tongue lolling out, Ripper spotted a cooking steak lying on a nearby stove. Barking happily, he stood on his hind legs and bit the hunk of meat with the side of his mouth. Ripper dragged it off of the stove, and dropped it on the floor. He began chewing viciously, taking huge chunks apart with his massive jaws. In several seconds, the stolen meal was gone, disappeared down Ripper's throat. Unabashedly, Ripper trotted off to parts unknown with a satisfied stomach. When the chef, a grouchy Jockey named Jake, all he found was smeared blood on the floor and small pieces of fat lying about.

Back outside, far from the safety of the hotel, Render was finding himself bored and unable to reach his resting place. He guiltily realized that the others must be worried about him right now. Unfortunately, he could not fix this problem. He had lost himself in the maze of the confusing buildings. Mentally smacking himself for his stupidity, Render looked down. His eyes went wide as he noticed that the roof he was atop of belonged to the hotel. Groaning and doing a facepalm, Render hopped down the three stories, and landed with a pronounced thud. Straightening, he casually strolled into the building. Ascending the flight of stairs to his room, Render took his clothes – which had been cleaned by a maid – And stripped himself of his summertime outfit. Render slid on his usual midnight black hoodie, jeans, and favorite t-shirt that was a simple all black. Render left the zipper alone and his hood down, as the temperature had risen from earlier to a much warmer climate. _Weird, _Render thought fleetingly. He opened the front door and slid down the railing on the staircase. He strode up to the front desk, where Clark still sat, awaiting anyone who may need his assistance.

Clark looked up as Render approached his position. "How can I help ya?" he asked Render. Render asked, "Hey Clark, do you have any iPod's I could trade for? And a computer I could use to download music?" Clark raised his hand to his face, and replied, "Well, I could give you an iPod for some food. And yes, you can use the computer – it is still somehow running, and we've got internet access, amazingly. I believe it belonged to a high ranking army officer." Render ran back up stairs, found an unopened box of granola bars and two apples in his backpack that he hadn't eaten yet, and brought all of them except one apple downstairs. He handed the items to Clark, who in turn gave Render his new iPod. The hybrid moved over to the computer, and began downloading music. After _two hours,_ he finally had all the songs he wanted. Render walked out the front door, and yelled out to Clark in passing, "Thanks for the iPod!"

It had reached dusk by the time Render had finally finished with constructing his list of songs. He decided to go check the perimeter of town, just for the heck of it. He walked leisurely up to the front gate and pounced to the top. Repeating the process, Render reached the bottom of the fortress. He climbed into a nearby tree, and traveled through the safety of the foliage. Minutes later, Render began growing sleepy. It had been a stressful day for him, and the battles began to take their toll. Just as he was about to nod off in a tree, he spotted a fire flickering in between the trees. Render crawled up to the clearing carefully, not wishing to disturb it's occupants. Around the fire, a strange assortment laid. A Tank, Charger, Hunter, Witch, and human slept around the comfort of the fire. Apparently, the person on guard had drifted off while watching for any wild infected. Render snickered quietly, thinking deviously, _I guess I should be here in the morning to greet the newbies to town..._ Render hopped back into the tree, made himself comfortable, and fell asleep in anticipation of the next morning.

**New characters? Not necessarily. To find out what is happening sooner, check out Maxforce's "Life With The Infected." He and I are doing a collab with separate POVs for each group. Now for a tribute and shout out to a good friend of mine who lives in England, Drake. If he wishes, I might be able to have him become an actual part of the main plot.**

Smoke lazily drifted out from the tops of buildings as fires raged inside of them. Screams filled the air as infected devoured the few living still in the area. Blood coated every surface, and disemboweled corpses lay along all sides of the road. Gulping nervously, a blonde haired boy with light blue eyes scanned the street, desperately searching for any signs of the terrible zombies. He wore jeans, a Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt, and a blue baseball cap. This boy's name was Drake, your average teen living in Britain who happened to be in the apocalypse. The infection had finally spread into his town after months of isolation. It had all started with a single bite, and became the downfall of the entire area for a hundred miles round. Many citizens had evacuated in time, including all of Drake's friends and family. He had simply been unlucky enough to be left behind to be picked up by another helicopter.

Drake was 13 years old, and stood at nearly six feet tall. Drake was a fan of the popular game, Left 4 Dead 2. However, it had never occurred to him that the game was based on a _real disease._ Armed with his trusty metal baseball bat, Drake was planning to make his way to America. Despite being the most heavily infected place on Earth, some of the few people Drake knew that actually stood a chance of living resided there: his good friends from Xbox LIVE, Connor and Andrew. At this point, he figured that if they were careful, Andrew and Connor could still be alive. Drake ran onto the main road, hiding behind a car. He peeked over the top of his cover. A small horde stumbled about, moaning and bumping into each other. An ugly snarl etched itself onto Drake's face.

Slowly, Drake pulled a pipe bomb and lighter off his belt loops. He flicked the lighter wheel, and held the mini flame to the fuse. Pressing the button on the side of the grenade, Drake overhand-tossed the pipe bomb at the crowd. It landed, beeping loudly, in the center of them. All of their heads turned at once towards the disturbance, but were blown to pieces by the ensuing explosion before they could react. Drake checked the crater once more, then flipped himself over the hood of the car and took off. He did not stop to look for supplies or weapons. If he wasn't fast enough, the sound wave from his bomb would attract too many more zombies. He sprinted, arms swinging, towards the docks. A broadcast had come on the radio in his last safe house that someone was attempting to escape to America in the hopes of finding more help there. They were leaving on a boat in roughly two hours from now.

An angered roar filled Drake's ears as he ran for his life. Another horde had heard the detonation of his explosive and were rushing to the scene from all sides. A trio of Commons spotted Drake and ran at him. Not even breaking stride, Drake took off all three of their heads with a single swing. The lifeless bodies hit the concrete with a wet thump. From the rooftops, Sentients that heard of Drake's town being in danger and came to see the damage, watched as the young survivor cut down the mindless creatures with ease. The sane infected murmured among themselves, rumors already spreading about the teen that could do what adults had failed at time and time again. The groups stared as Drake halted his flight and engaged a dozen zombies at once. He bashed one over the head, and did a 180 turn to remove the arm from an attacker. He stepped forward and jabbed his bat through the chest of another, and swiftly removed the tool as more came. Drake beat and smashed them, until every monster lay dead in the streets.

While not necessarily friendly with humans, the Sentients couldn't help but feel a little bit of awe as they saw a teenager take down a small horde without assistance or injury. It was not everyday they got such a show. However, they still had no intention of watching the young boy die. If they had to, the Sentients would intervene. But for now, Drake seemed to have everything under control. The teen resumed his desperate dash to salvation. By this time, the rest of the horde had caught up and if he didn't move _now, _Drake would not be escaping with his life. On the roof, the Sentients looked at each other with worry. Could the kid make it out alive?

Taking a glance over his shoulder, Drake noticed his pursuers. He knew that outrunning them was out of the question, so against his will, Drake stopped and turned to face the horde. Above, every Sentient's jaw dropped at the sheer amount of bravery Drake had. He raised his bat, prepared for battle. He met the first wave with a crushing blow from his bat. Raising the weapon, Drake brought it down again and again and again. The battle raged for several long minutes. Drake was ripping off limbs and heads and torsos. He caved in one man's chest, broke the neck of a female zombie, and impaled another as it charged. After what seemed like an eternity to all present, Drake prevailed. All of the infected were dead or mortally wounded. The teen was covered from head to toe in blood and guts, dripping in buckets onto the road.

Drake hefted the bat over his shoulder. Searching for supplies on the defeated horde, Drake came across an undamaged iPod that had survived the brutal slaughter. Smiling slightly, he pushed the headphones into his ears and flipped through the songs. Finally he settled on a song that sounded appropriate for the moment. Drake walked at a brisk pace as the lyrics from I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin floated like a ghost through the streets.

_Fall!_

_Now the dark begins to rise,_

_Save your breath, it's far from over_

_Leave the lost and dead behind,_

_Now's your chance to run for cover_

_I don't wanna change the world_

_I just wanna leave it colder_

_Light the fuse and burn it up_

_Take the path that leads to nowhere_

_All is lost again_

_But I'm not giving in_

_I will not bow_

_I will not break_

_I will shut the world away_

_I will not fall_

_I will not fade_

_I will take your breath away_

_Fall!_

_Watch the end through dying eyes_

_Now the dark is taking over_

_Show me where forever dies_

_Take the fall and run to Heaven_

_All is lost again_

_But I'm not giving in_

_I will not bow_

_I will not break_

_I will shut the world away_

_I will not fall_

_I will not fade_

_I will take your breath away_

_And I'll survive, paranoid_

_I have lost the will to change_

_And I'm not proud, cold-blooded fake_

_I will shut the world away..._

The song faded as Drake ran to the docks, and the Sentients were left wondering: who was the real monster here?

**Well, I hope you all liked a little glimpse at my BBB, or "Best British Buddy." If possible, I plan to either: write more mini-chapters involving Drake, or add him to the main storyline. I will create a poll on my profile to see who wants what. So, review and don't forget to vote!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I didn't realize the poll wouldn't show up on my profile if I didn't tell it to. Whoops. So I changed that. Also, this is part of Maxforce's chapter 6, but from Render's POV. Expect to see this in both stories if you aren't too lazy to read his. One last thing: in every chapter or so, I will include a tribute to some of my best friends on Xbox LIVE. I feel that this is my way of repaying them for all of the kind things they have done for me, and they deserve their own zombie ass-kicking stories. This chapter: Sam, a great friend of mine who is really funny when he does something stupid ('cough cough' startles the Witch 'cough cough'). I mean, who knows? The world is a big place, and I'm not the only survivor...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead or Fred, Geoff, Ryan, Jonah, and Ellie.**

Render woke with a start that nearly knocked him out of his perch. He quickly looked down at the group of Sentients below him. The Hunter was twirling a golf club as he walked up to the human. He brought it down onto the survivor's head painfully. The teen shot up and made his hood fall off. The Hunter walked off twirling his wake-up weapon. The survivor asked with a glance and question towards the Charger, "Mr. Nine-Iron?" The second largest infected in their group nodded. Render smirked to himself as he thought of new ways to wake up his friends.

"Mr. Nine-Iron," The Charger told the human. "Why so early?" The infected man replied, "I fell asleep on watch." The Hunter screamed as he was flung into Render's tree, nearly knocking him out of the branches. "Ow," He moaned as he fell out of the nice man-shaped hole in the tree. "Next time, ask before taking someone else's property." The Tank said as he lumbered into the picture. "Why, oh why, did I think it was a good idea to come back down after you were asleep?" The injured creature asked rhetorically. "I think you might have broken something." Render snickered at how whiny wounded people could be.

"Oh, man up. Be thankful it was only a tree this time. A rock wouldn't give anywhere _near _that much cushion." The Tank indicated the depression in the plant. "Hey, guys, can we keep it down a little? Ellie's still sleeping. We may as well get in town now and scope it out." The charger put in, directing the last part at his Hunter companion. The previously mentioned Hunter stretched like a cat, and said happily, "Oh, so much better. Anyways, yes, we should go in. Jonah, think you could whip up some quick breakfast?" The survivor, apparently named Jonah, replied, "Sure. Give me about fifteen minutes and I'll get some pancakes going." After about the predicted time, give or take a few minutes, Jonah had a fire going and food. The smell of anything cooked brought drool into Render's mouth.

The Hunter remarked, "You know, if this infection hadn't happened, you probably would have made a good military man or chef. Hell, I'll bet you could have even become a top notch ambassador, with that interesting gift you have." He indicated Jonah while occasionally pausing to chew. The teen laughed and told him, "Aw, now you're making me blush." The Tank said, "Well, that was quite filling." A burp interrupted his words. "Oh dear, excuse me," He apologized. The Hunter stood and stretched once more. "Alright, now that breakfast is over, Geoff, Fred, let's get into to town. We need to find out the status survivors hold there, a hotel that allows non-infected regardless of what others think of survivors, and get some more pancake mix." According to the still unnamed Hunter, the Tank was Geoff and the Charger was Fred.

Jonah said, "Why do I get the feeling that I've just discovered your favorite breakfast food?" The Hunter answered, "Actually, I just like the idea of being able to eat cooked food again. The pancakes weren't a bad start." Jonah reminded them, "Hey, don't forget to see what they think of Witches, and grab another poncho for Ellie as well, just in case." Fred realized something. "Right, good thinking. Hey, be careful while we're gone. There are still Common around that aren't labeled as Sentients. You know what you're going to have to do." Jonah whispered with a sad tone, "I know." As the trio left, the unhappy survivor began preparing his and Ellie's meal in silence.

Jonah's stomach growled, and he looked around quickly before realizing the cause. "I hope Ellie doesn't mind being the only one eating," He muttered to himself. As Render watched him fry the batter and eat his meal, a growl rose from his throat unintentionally. Jonah stiffened, and slowly turned towards Render as the teen mentally berated himself. Another growl came out of Render as he eyed the pancakes hungrily. Jonah was no idiot, and held a plate of the freshly made cakes towards the newcomer. "Pancakes?"

Render hopped out of the tree and walked forward. "Thanks," he said quietly as he accepted the meal. "I'm Jonah." The older teen said, trying to start a conversation. "You can call me Render," was the reply. After several awkward moments, Render stated, "You don't seem to be surprised by a talking infected." He spat the last word out with distaste, though only a small bit of his disgust was noticeable. Render was attempting to see how much Jonah knew. "Don't you mean Sentient?" Jonah corrected him. "No, not really. Considering I was saved by one." Render raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. "An infected saved you?" He asked, as it was not common for even Sentients to assist humans. 

Yeah, I've lived with Special Infected for almost three weeks now." Render thought of something intriguing. "Are you that human peacemaker I've heard about?" Jonah mimicked him, and handed over two more pancakes to the insatiable hybrid. "What do you mean by that?" Render, munching on the pancake, replied, "Well, from what I've heard, is that you have the ability to make nice with others." Jonah chuckled lightly and told him, "You sound like Ryan. He says the same thing." _Ryan must be the Hunter, _Render thought. "That's because it is extremely rare. Most survivors shoot on sight." He neglected to mention his friends. "But that's because they don't know," Jonah insisted. "It seems to me that this Green Flu thing has turned the world into a kill or be killed world now. And it's affected everyone." Render asked, "And why didn't you?" Jonah looked at him. "Why didn't I what?" Render repeated himself more clearly. "Shoot on sight? When that Sentient saved you?"

Jonah had a faraway look and told Render determinedly, "One, I couldn't fight back. And two, they're still human." He retrieved the last pancakes and placed the pan aside. "Even if most of them have gone insane or turned into zombies or whatever you want to say about them, they're still just very sick people." Jonah and Render sat in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jonah asked the question Render hated answering. "What's your story?" Render decided to just tell Jonah's group all together, and replied, "Depends on what you know." Jonah shrugged and said, "If I were to take a guess, then I'd say you were that hybrid Fred heard about, who escaped from CEDA. Other than that, I have no idea." Render thought with an imaginary smirk, _My reputation supersedes me. _"Then let's leave it at that." Jonah shrugged once more. "Alright, suit yourself."

Render and Jonah sat in silence once again, and Render pulled out his new iPod. He sifted through the contents until he found a song he recently found, Country Song by Seether. Jonah watched quietly as Render sang along, his voice no longer a husky rattle. The song seemed to go along (in general) to what was happening. Jonah realized that Render appeared to choose songs that went with his particular mood or recent events. From the lyrics, Jonah believed that Render hadn't been having a very calm lifestyle as of late. As the song ended, the two guys heard a yawn and turned to see Ellie rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fists as she woke up. Blearily, she registered the two forms in front of her: one familiar and the other...not so much. She froze and asked shakily, "W-who's that?" Jonah smiled slightly and said, "This is Render. He, uh...likes my pancakes. Want some?" Jonah offered some of the uneaten pancakes he still had.

Ellie nervously took the plate and began munching away while she watched Render. She saw his claws and said quietly yet incredulously, "You're a...male Witch?" Render chuckled and said, "Just half." With a grin, he flipped up his hood and bared his sharpened teeth. "Can you guess the other half?" Jonah shook his head and grabbed the frying pan. He placed it among the pile of sleeping bags behind him. Render glanced at him and asked, "So what are we gonna do? I'm bored already, considering I've been fighting for a week straight with no rest." Jonah thought and said, "How about you tell us your story? The full thing." Ellie's interest was sparked as well, though she did not show it. Render sighed and decided to give the short version.

"My friends and I, at the beginning, fortified our houses and held out for weeks. Eventually a CEDA evac was created in town, and in the ensuing battle, I was – by my own will – left behind. I was infected by some damn Hunter, and CEDA found me by what was left of the Tank that attacked me. They ran tests on me for weeks, agility, strength...endurance..." Render shuddered and a look of terror was painted on his features. "I-I'm sorry, I just...don't want to talk about it, the...the surgeries and...the scalpels...Anyway, I escaped afterward, and went back to my town. I met a soldier, two female infected, and an infected dog there (the dog long before the other three). We traveled north based off of what the girls said. Along the way, we saved my old buddies from town who had a helicopter crash. All nine of us finally reached Cherrygrove after encountering some guards and taking down a Haggard. In town, an outraged Spiker decided to attack us and I kicked his ass. Right now, we're staying in a hotel run by a Tank named Clark. And that's just the short version."

Ellie and Jonah stared at the new arrival in wonder at the tale he had just told them. All of that? And he had survived all of it? _Damn... _Jonah thought. Of course, their stories rivaled Render's, but it was still pretty amazing to hear another person tell their own epic moments. For the umpteenth time, a silence descended upon the camp as they simply contemplated things. Ellie broke the silence. "So...w-what about the town? C-can we stay t-there?" Render gave her a look that said 'are-you-kidding' and said "Uhhh... yeah, probably." Jonah laughed and said, "Ryan's going to be really angry when he finds out that he went to town for nothing." Render sighed with exaggerated sadness, "I know how that feels." He cracked a smile at Jonah. "How much are we betting that Ryan is pissed when he gets back?" Jonah grinned and feeling giddy, pronounced, "You are on!"

Several minutes later, a large amount of cursing and stumbling could be heard nearby. Angrily, Ryan swiped the plants out of his face to find Jonah and Ellie sitting with some random kid and the kid was playing rock-paper-scissors with Jonah. If the score sheet they had was anything to go by, the new guy was winning 21-17. Ryan's first thought was, _You have GOT to be kidding me,_ before it hit him that some strange infected was just hanging out with his friends. Jonah looked up and said, "Crap, you win Render." The strange boy looked up and said, "What, the game or the bet?" Jonah sighed and replied, "Both." Render grinned and told Ryan, "It is apparently very hard to play rock-paper-scissors when I have kitchen knives for fingers." Ryan just gave him a look that screamed 'who-the-hell-are-you' and looked at Jonah. Jonah said with a shrug, "He wanted some pancakes too." Ryan would have facepalmed, if it weren't for the fact he would probably gouge out his own eyes.

Ryan inspected Render's appearance, and sniffed the air. His eyes widened, and he asked, "You're that hybrid Fred told us about, aren't you?" Render rolled his eyes and said, "We already went over this. And no, I will not repeat my story again. Ask Jonah later." The way Render responded told Ryan that he was asked those questions a lot. Ellie spoke up from behind Jonah, "Where are F-fred and Geoff?" Ryan huffed and told her, "They ran off and I couldn't find them, so I came back. Don't worry, they're smart, they'll find their way back." Render asked out of the blue, "Did you happen to meet a pissed Spiker in Cherrygrove?" Ryan thought about this for a moment and said, "Yeah, we saw some Spiker grumbling about a psycho Hunter or something." Render nodded and looked at Jonah. "Yup. He's angry 'cause I kicked his ass yesterday. 'I don't think you should stay here,' I beat the crap out of him for that." Ryan glared at Render, and shook his head. _This is going to be a long trip, _he thought.

**Well, Render gets introduced to most of the new group in town. How will this end? Can they all survive together, or will tragedy strike? I don't know, so don't ask. Anyways, here is a tribute to Sam, one of the funniest guys I know for a pessimist. Also, if you are reading this Sam, I based it off of our (emotionally) deep chat we had the other day.**

Smoke filled Sam's lungs as he struggled to breathe. He looked around the room, trying to find an exit from the burning building. Sam spotted an opening in between two burning hunks of wood. He ran as fast as possible, sliding under the collapsed woodwork and out the other side. Sam continued running, but his strength was fading. He noticed the front door was unblocked, and made a desperate dash towards it. Closer...his lungs were burning...almost there...Sam's vision was turning black...

With a great heave, the 14-year-old burst out of the skeletal remains of his house. Sam threw himself out of the way, gasping and spluttering, as the roof collapsed in on itself. The flaming remnants of the building continued to burn brightly, illuminating the distraught face of Sam. He had always said that if his parents died, he would feel sad, but would move on because it would be their own fault they were dead. However, after they was separated by CEDA because they were carriers, he had constantly worried. His parents hadn't been killed by smoking, CEDA had taken them away for _testing._ The house was all Sam had had to remember them by. And now that was gone, too.

Tears leaked down Sam's face as he searched for a weapon. He saw his scorched aluminum baseball bat lying in the grass, somehow unharmed by the blaze. It must have fallen off his back – where it had been ever since the first zombie attack – when he jumped. His dark hair was burned, his clothes charred, and his brown eyes were haunted. Sam stood, grabbed the bat off the ground, and took a look at the other houses. In the distance, gunfire sounded. Rage filled Sam as he heard the shouts and fighting several blocks away. It was the CEDA task force that had been burning buildings, including the house Sam was in.

A few Common infected, smelling the fire and burned flesh, came to investigate. They found the torched husk of a home, and a teenage boy trying to contain his anger. The dim Commons charged at Sam, howling and screaming while blood and spit dribbled down their faces. Sam awarded the most eager of them with a bat to the fragile skull, and the others soon met a similar fate. Meanwhile, an insane Hunter watched from above. Even with his mind dulled, the special infected could still formulate basic plans. He would wait until the prey was done dealing with the stupider infected, and then the Hunter would pounce when the prey was at it's weakest.

Sam was coated in blood as he finished off the Commons lying on the ground, unable to move because of crippling injuries. A low growl grabbed his attention as Sam went about the dirty task of killing the wounded. He looked up in time to see a Hunter leap from his missing neighbor's roof directly at him. Time seemed to slow down as Sam barrel-rolled under the Hunter. The slow-mo ended as the creature landed. With lightning quick reflexes, the Hunter turned and pounced a second time. However, Sam could not avoid it.

The zombie landed heavily on top of Sam. The Hunter raised a clawed hand to disembowel his victim. Unfortunately for the special infected, it had caught an avid fan of Left 4 Dead 2 when he was in a very bad mood. Sam swung the bat into the Hunter's side, and he smiled as the telltale sound of cracking ribs. The wounded Hunter howled in pain, and snarled as he brought the claws down upon Sam. The sharpened nails cut through Sam's t-shirt with ease, drawing blood. The teen grimaced, and aimed for the head this time. The metal bat clocked the infected in the head, stunning him for a moment. But that was all Sam needed.

The young man gripped the bat in both hands, and shoved it under the Hunter's jaw. Sam heaved with all his might, pushing the infected off him. Now it was his turn. Sam jumped on the Hunter, pinned his arms to the side, And placed his weapon on the throat of the zombie. Sam pushed, straining to choke his enemy. The creature gasped and wheezed, trying in vain to break free from the prey-turned-predator's anger filled strength. After five straight minutes of struggling, the Hunter finally went limp beneath the boy. Sam stood with triumph in his features, as not many could boast that they killed a Hunter with close combat.

New sounds filled Sam's senses. The CEDA soldiers were coming back this way. Eyes wide, Sam realized that there was no way CEDA wouldn't take the chance to study and/or dissect him. Panicking, Sam tried to find an escape route. All the houses were close together, with almost no space between them. Then, Sam noticed that one of the buildings had a metal ladder going to the roof. The teen ran for it, flinging his body up the ladder. He kicked the ladder down, so that it wasn't so obvious where he was hiding. Below, the voices of soldiers floated towards Sam. His fingers tightened around his bat. If CEDA found him, it was endgame. And there wouldn't be any respawning like the game.

**I feel this chapter is short, but it had to happen sometime. Next chapter's tribute goes to Mark, another friend of mine who lives in England and knows Drake in real life.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead or anything except my OC's.**

** A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry for the hold-up, I've had writers block. I decided to start again and continue, while adding a reference to Andrew's story, My Apocalypse, (yes the Andrew in the story) which takes place in the same universe as my and Maxforce's stories. You might want to check his story out, it gives a new POV on the Sentients and the different groups and beliefs between them. Also, this is probably going to be darker than other chapters at parts.**

Render slowly zoned out as Jonah explained his back story to Ryan. He was dimly aware of their conversation. "That's some story. Makes me wonder about his unique appearance." Render was just barely taking this all in. Ellie asked rhetorically, "I wonder what's taking Geoff and Fred so long to get back..." The other two simply shrugged at her words. "They should be alright, they can be pretty intimidating if someone tries to mess with them." Suddenly, a voice rang out around the clearing; "Connor!" Render perked up at hearing this, and waved back at the boy who emerged from the foliage. "Thom. What are you doing out here?" Glaring at Ryan, he responded, "Looking for you. You didn't come back last night and we all started to worry a bit."

Ellie poked her head around Jonah's back. "Who's that?" She asked innocently. Thom quite literally froze in terror. He looked down at the confused Witch and let out a bloodcurdling scream. He had just raised his weapon to blow out the terrified Ellie's brains when Ryan hit him in a tackle. Ryan rammed his head into Thom's, knocking him out. Ryan remarked, "Okay, ow, your buddy's got a hard head." Jonah attempted to comfort the shaken Ellie, while Render stated, "Well, that could have gone better." Jonah nodded in distracted agreement. Sighing heavily, Render sat back down and closed his eyes, falling asleep once more. Almost immediately, he regretted it.

***Render's Nightmare***

_A sterilized white room laid in Render's vision. Blinded by pain, he could only shut his tearing eyes and hope that the pain would leave. After several minutes, he could see again, and Render took his first look around the strange room he found himself in. Nothing was in it except for the necessary toilet, sink, and bed. Rolling his shoulders, Render worked out the aches and stiffness in his muscles. Almost immediately, he recognized this as the room he had at CEDA HQ. A sudden trill of fear flowed through him at the realization._

_ Eyes darting about, Render searched for any sign that something bad was going to happen to him. After nearly a month of horrifying tests, it had become imprinted on the teen to find any danger or possible escape route. A loud scream echoed in the room, bouncing off the tile walls. Soon, another joined, and another, until all Render could hear were the wails of the damned. Faces of all those he had killed flew around him. Zombies, CEDA agents, it did not matter as they all tortured their executioner. Render gripped his head in agony, thousands of whispers speaking gibberish in his mind's eye. It reminded him of something from Warhammer 40,000._

_ Eventually, the decomposing visages of the dead and gone had disappeared until one remained. It was the face of a man who still yet lived, but deserved to burn in Hell for eternity. It was the CEDA high chairman, director of the agency and most likely the man who created the Green Flu in the first place. He turned to Render, an arrogant sneer showing. He bent down to the quivering boy, and whispered things to him from Render's memories. "Tests begin in two days...Subject seems to be responding negatively...Hand me the scalpel...This won't hurt, I promise..." Render lashed out violently, hoping to destroy the ghost of the man. His claws passed through the director like fog, not harming a single thing. One word rose, higher and higher, until it was the only sound in the room: "Hybrid! Hybrid! HYBRID!"_

Render awoke with a terrified scream. It temporarily deafened everyone nearby and sent the wildlife running with the fear of death and dismemberment. Ryan and Jonah looked up to see Render huddled, arms wrapped tightly around his legs muttering, "No more, no more, no more..." Shocked, Jonah tried to grab Render's attention. "R-render? Are you alright?" The infected in question glanced at him with tearful eyes and said, "Please...no more pain." Jonah was scared witless by the suffering he saw in Render's eyes, and he could almost feel the torture the boy went through while in the custody of CEDA.

Ryan shook his head and said, "You gonna be ok, kid?" Render nodded shakily. Ryan sighed in relief, knowing his eardrums would not be blown out again today. They had not even noticed Render was asleep until he startled them with his shout. Ellie put in quietly, "Do you need any help?" Render shook his head, not wishing to heap his troubles upon others. Thom sat up, groaning. "Ugh...what hit me?" He saw the questioning eyes of the others and asked, "What?" Then he spotted Ellie again. "AAA-" Thom was abruptly cut off as Render covered his mouth with his claws. "Knock it off Thom, she's not going to hurt you." Render said with a growl, seeming to recover from his shock.

Nodding mutely, Thom spit the taste of old blood from his friend's claws out of his mouth. He sheepishly said, "Er, sorry Miss Witch." Ellie gave a tiny bob of her head to acknowledge his apology. "So, who are these guys?" A quick introduction was given between the groups. After everything was done and settled, the five just relaxed, glad to be away from the constant pressure of battle and everyday survival. Well, that was until a loud yell was heard from within the forest. The five looked at each other, got up and ran to the source, Ellie on Ryan's back.

Render was the first to find the source of the commotion, and groaned exasperatedly. "Oh my god..." The other four ran into his back and spread out around him. "What...what is it?" Jonah panted, out of breath. Render simply sighed and said, "Andrew..." They glanced up, and could not believe what they saw. Andrew was running in between the trees, laughing insanely as he was chased by three very angry feral Hunters. Jonah noticed they were all lacking pants, and guessed that Andrew was the thief. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw three pairs of jeans clutched in Andrew's hands. Ryan stared on in disbelief. "Are you KIDDING ME!" Render covered his face in shame and replied with a simple "Nope." Unhappily, Render reached out and grabbed Andrew by the shirt as he ran by. Lifting up the grinning boy, he growled angrily, "What the Hell are you doing?"

Andrew told him happily, "Messing with the zombies. Why?" Render growled irritatedly again and speared the Hunter that leaped towards the pair, throwing it to the side. "WHY?" He roared shaking Andrew by the scruff of the neck. Seeing their comrade fall, the other two Hunters fled in the opposite direction. Andrew started choking and Render dropped him in a heap. "Are you INSANE!" Andrew, now acting serious said, "Sorry. I was really bored waiting for you and Thom to get back. You guys take forever!" Andrew was distracted by the sight of new arrivals. "Who are they?" Growling under his breath, Render once again introduced his friend to the new guys in town.

"Can we PLEASE get back to town? I'm getting tired of all the random bullshit I have to put up with." Render voiced his impatience. Rolling his eyes, Andrew said in a monotone, "Sure, whatever." The teen turned around and began leading everyone towards Cherrygrove. After several minutes of walking, a rotten stench wafted past them. Attempting to hold back rising bile, Render choked out, "What the Hell stinks so damn badly?" Looking past a shrub, he saw the decomposing corpse of the Haggard they had defeated yesterday. "Argh, Jesus, we only killed that thing a day ago! How can it be rotting so fast?"

Jonah's group took in the sight before them. Mouth open in shock, Jonah gasped, "What's that?" Render replied with a grimace, "A Haggard. As big as a Tank and throws steel spikes at you." Ryan's brow furrowed at the thought of another kind of special infected to battle. Pinching his nose, he said, "Can we keep moving? I think my nose just died."

**Cherrygrove, at Clark's hotel**

Jackson stretched sleepily, yawning widely as he woke up. It had taken a lot out of him, traveling and fighting at an almost constant rate. After all, he was only human. The realization of his limits and being human brought up a long buried memory of his best childhood friend, Brian, who had also joined the military. Brian had always been the workaholic, never giving up or retreating. He would always finish a job, even if he had to push himself to the limits. Jackson had respected him for that, but now he had no idea if Brian still lived.

Pushing down his deep regrets, Jackson dragged himself out of the comfy sheets and pulled his freshly cleaned uniform on over his head. Smacking his dry lips, Jackson grabbed his AK47 subconsciously and walked out the door, rubbing his crusted eyes. Another yawn forced it's way out the man's lips. His mind on breakfast, the soldier thumped down the steps. However, his movement to the kitchen was quickly arrested when he heard the crackling static from a military radio. Curious, the man walked towards the sound. He gently shoved open a door, finding a beaten radio lying on a tabletop.

Jackson sat down at the battered wooden chair next to the table. He fiddled with the dials, trying to find any broadcast. Jackson froze when he heard chilling words come from an army broadcast. "PSSHHH... Haven City has been lost to the whiskey deltas...All remaining personnel, fall back to rally point gamma immediately...PSSHHH...We have received reports of seemingly intelligent contacts...HOLD THE LINE, DAMN YOU! Any soldier who can hear this, fall back! Fa- AAAAAAAAHHHH-" The communication abruptly stopped, leaving a despairing soldier desperately hoping for the message to continue.

Jackson slumped back in his chair, a disbelieving look on his horrified face. Haven City was a humongous military outpost, and had lasted for months. But Sentients attacking humans? While logical, what could be the possible reason for an offensive move? Simply not knowing what to think anymore, the depressed man resigned himself to just going with where fate decided to take him.

**Render & Company, Cherrygrove gate**

Ryan and Jonah sighed with relief and hope as the walls of the settlement came into view. Render walked up to the guards, said "I'm back," and walked right on by. The two guards tried not to shake as they let the others go by without a single complaint or comment. The three new arrivals acted in a similar fashion to Render's group had; they stared in awe at the harmony and peace around them. It was a precious commodity in the world of the apocalypse.

Ignoring the sights around them, Render, Andrew and Thom lead the way to Clark's business. Not wishing to be left behind, the others rushed to catch up. Render thumbed through the selection of music in his iPod, finally selecting 115 by Elena Siegman. He quietly sang along as they walked past the buildings and stands showing off their wares. Thom spared Render a glance, but went back to navigating with Andrew. Several minutes later, the hotel came into view between the other businesses and such that you would find in a modern town.

The group strode into the main lobby. "S'up Clark." Render offered a short greeting to the busy Tank working the front desk. The young infected teen turned towards the newbies. "Ok, you guys sign in, we'll go get the rest of our group. Hopefully the lazy bastards are getting ready now." The three teenage boys thumped up the stairs as Jonah and his friends went about registering into the hotel. Upstairs, Render spotted a cracked open door on the way up. He heard an angry shout of "Damn it all to Hell!" Worried, for the voice belonged to Jackson, Render pushed the door all the way open to find the soldier with a white knuckled grip on the table. "Jackson? You alright?" The older man looked up at the disturbance. His face loosened, and he replied, "Haven City fell..." Render guessed Haven City was a survivor evac point or outpost. "Oh...I'm sorry to hear tha-"

"By the _Sentients,"_ Jackson hissed furiously, interrupting Render in the middle of speaking. "W-what!" Render managed to stammer out. "Your damn Sentients overran Haven City! Those freaks killed everyone!" Jackson's angered shout stung Render, and attracted the attention of the rest of their and Jonah's group. Render had a hurt look on his face before he hissed just as venomously, "_What did you say?"_ The fire in the soldier's eyes died down as he realized what he just said to his leader and savior. "I-I didn't mean it like that!" He yelled in fear. Render took a step forward. "Don't you ever compare me to them again!"

Outside, the other infected were bristling at Jackson's comment, but froze when they heard Render begin growling Hunter esque. Everyone silently moved out of the way as Render stormed out of the room and stalked down the hallway. They looked inside and found a white faced soldier staring at them in fear. The humans dispersed, while Jenna and Ryan snarled at the man before walking away. Ellie had small tears in her eyes, and Jenna looked as if she was about to join her. The two followed the rest, leaving Jackson behind to regret his actions alone.

**A/N: Alright, it's kinda short, but I need to catch up and let Maxforce write his part sometime. So, here is the tribute to Mark, another British buddy of mine who knows Drake personally.**

Kaboom! The frag grenade went off with the force of a speeding car, sending the zombies and lonely survivor flying backwards. As the smoke and rubble settled, the relentless foreign CEDA agents moved forward like automatons. They put down the crippled infected, showing no remorse or sadness while they killed the whimpering creatures. Still dazed, the survivor stood and began to clumsily run away from his pursuers. His brown hair was singed, and his brown eyes unfocused as he made his escape.

The 13 year old teen pushed his worn body into a deserted alley, never stopping for rest or a food break. If he stopped moving, the boy would be killed... or worse. As he ran from his supposed saviors, a wallet fell out the back of his jeans. It spilled open, contents revealing the owner to be named Mark, a native of Great Britain. Mark did not notice or care. The only coherent thought he had was to get as far away from the zombies and insane American government agents. Slowly, his mind sharpened and he groped around his pocket for the small weapon he kept there. It was a strange weapon his friend on Xbox LIVE, Connor, had once told him about. It was supposedly a very good zombie killer.

Behind him, Mark could here the voices of the agents echo quietly. They were trying to round up any and all survivors – Carriers and Immunes – for testing. Mark was so distracted that he did not notice the CEDA soldier in front of him until it was too late. The man grabbed Mark, pulling him into a tight bear hug to prevent escape. He was about to report in with his squad, when Mark unsheathed his weapon using his right hand. He jabbed the vintage WWI steel trench spike, practically a knife with an 8-inch-long blade and brass knuckles, into the gut of his attacker. The man dropped Mark, held a hand to the bleeding wound, and toppled over onto the ground.

Glaring at the dying man, Mark smashed the soldier's radio with a foot and ran in his original direction: to the piers. He had heard of an evacuation station there, ferrying people to other parts of England and across the Atlantic even. Mark had figured he should find his friend Drake, take a boat, and find out if their American buddies had survived as well. It was the only plan he had, so Mark was determined to see it through to the end. Nothing would stop him, not the diseased or CEDA. That also brought up the question: why the Hell were they here anyways? CEDA was an American government agency, and didn't expand to other countries.

A low gurgling moan brought Mark out of his reverie. Fear shooting through his heart, Mark cautiously inched around the corner to find a shocking sight. On the ground lay an infected with a straightjacket. It was male, with black hair and glowing orange irises. The jacket was completely buckled, restricting any movement except breathing. However, the most shocking was not the Screamer itself, but what some deranged soul had down. Somebody had sowed together the lips of the infected teen, so he could not speak or anything. A small tag read, "NAME: Ezekiel AGE: 14 years."

Mark was horrified that someone could do this to anyone, infected or not. The Screamer looked up at the scent of a human. His eyes widened and he gave a silent shriek or terror as he slowly inched backwards from Mark. The survivor had no idea what to do, except for one extremely dangerous thing. Not thinking clearly, Mark quickly crouched down, undid the straps, and cut the stitching. The Screamer, Ezekiel, pushed himself up, eyes never leaving his counterpart. They stood there, not moving or speaking at all. Suddenly, a CEDA agent rounded the corner. Ezekiel let out an ear shattering scream that alerted all the nearby infected. Mark gasped in fear, and was about to run for it if Ezekiel hadn't grabbed his arm and yanked him away.

Together, the pair dashed through the streets, using the attracted horde as a distraction for the soldiers. They had to get out, and quickly, if they wanted to survive. Mark could not resist the hand of the overly strong infected pulling him away from what would have been his doom. Glancing back, Mark saw a few agents push their way past the zombies, sprinting after the escaping boys. Turning around, Mark ran faster.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I added this note after working on the chapter because I noticed something. Spell check on Open Office is being GAY, so if I have any grammatical or spelling errors, please tell me.**

Render could not comprehend the nerve of that dick Jackson as he slammed the door shut behind him. He had saved the jerk and the girls (plus Ripper) from hordes of zombies and this is how he was re-payed! An ungrateful ass that didn't even think before he spoke? Render was seething as he thought maliciously, _I didn't have to save you or anyone else Jackson! This isn't a fucking game anymore! No respawning, defibs or magical fricking closets! If you die... it's game over._ Sighing angrily, Render flopped backwards onto the comfy bed. It was hard being only thirteen and having to kill living creatures and lead a group of other people constantly. It was beginning to tax on Render and everyone else, the never ending war against the mindless monsters, psychotic soldiers and other threats. Mostly, it was affecting them mentally. Render was becoming short tempered and couldn't enjoy the little things each day that make life worth living.

Unable to sleep or rest with the tumult in his mind, Render decided to take a trip around town. He opened the door and descended the flight of stairs. On the way through the lobby, he noticed a new Tank and Charger sitting on the couches, seeming to be waiting for someone. Render had a slight sense of remembrance as he approached the pair. It hit him that they were from the campsite in the woods. _This must be Fred and Geoff then, _Render thought to himself. "Are you guys with Ryan and Jonah?" He asked curiously. The Charger, Fred, jumped slightly at the unexpected disturbance.

"Er, yeah, how do you know them?" Fred queried cautiously. It wasn't everyday some strange boy with red eyes and Witch claws decided to chit chat. "I spoke with them while you guys were lost in town," Render smirked a little bit at his comment. Rolling his eyes, Geoff interrupted, "SO were you the reason I had the peculiar experience of being watched?" Shrugging, Render said with embarrassment, "Heh heh, that was me. Hiding in the tree you threw Ryan into." Fred chuckled at the memory of his friend putting a dent in the solid wood trunk of a tree.

Geoff simply said, "He required a lesson in manners. I was just the instructor." Fred full out laughed at that. Render snorted, smiling happily. "You guys are pretty funny. Well, I'm gonna go out into town. See ya' later!" Render waved at the two as he pushed the glass doors open and emerged into the sunlit street. Everywhere, infected of all kinds were walking, socializing, and buying necessary items. Inhaling deeply, Render smiled once again. It was good to finally have some peace.

Back in the hotel, Jenna and Screen were still brooding over Jackson's stinging words earlier with Ryan and Ellie. Screen decided that the awkward and tense silence should be broken. "My name's Screen. That's my sister Jenna. What are your names?" Screen asked this bluntly but shyly. Even before the Green Flu, she had never been much of a people person. Ryan and Ellie introduced themselves accordingly, and after names were swapped, the mood in the room was not as angry.

Jackson was in the room with the radio set, contemplating what the kid, Jonah, had told him earlier. **(A/N: If you want to know what Jonah said to Jackson, actually go read Maxforce's story if you haven't yet.) **It struck the man as strange that such a young man could be so wise to the world. He didn't have the appearance of a warrior as everybody else did. The slight jump at sudden noises, constant alertness, twitchy trigger fingers; none of that was obvious in his stature. It was easy to tell the boy was a "talker", not a "doer". Sighing wearily, Jackson leaned back in the chair and loosely grabbed his rifle. He even owed his _weapon _to an infected. Frowning at the passing thought, Jackson reached for the fleeting moment of understanding. How DID the kid and his friends know so much about the infected and the ways to kill them? Ever since he had seen Render's friends, they had been quietly observing the other travelers, as if they knew something that the others didn't. Suddenly, it hit him: the boys were fans of the Left 4 Dead games. But in that case...did Jonah and his companions know too? The soldier was left to his thinking as the early afternoon dragged on.

Several hours later, the combined groups sat in the cafeteria-like room of the hotel, taking their separate choices of meals. Some of the infected – such as Fred, Geoff and Ripper – had to have the others pick out lunches for them due to their inability to not crush or reach anything. Render had a large stack of food on his tray, several meals together. He sat at a large table that was meant to allow a group of families to eat at one place and time. Ryan noticed his proportions and asked confusedly, "Uh, kid, why do you have so much food?" Render looked up from his lunch unhappily. "My name is _Render._ Also, how about you try to go several days without eating and having the metabolism of a Hunter and a naturally anorexic body of a Witch? Then you can talk to me about eating." Ryan simply had no answer to that, and decided it would be wise to continue eating his meal in quietly.

At a small break in between mouthfuls, Render put down his utensil (or utensils, depending on if you count his fingers for knives) and addressed everyone. "OK, guys, I need to know three things. One: Are you going to travel with us, Jonah and company? Two: Does anybody have any last minute stops before we hit Hard Rain along the way? And finally: When can we start moving?" Surprised, the groups glanced at each other. Jonah spoke up. "Well... power lies within numbers, so... I guess we can work together. On the other hand, what's Hard Rain?"

Sighing, Render quickly launched into a lengthy explanation of what Hard Rain is and where it is located. **(A/N: Honestly, people, if you've forgotten already what Hard Rain is, then go read Chapter 3 or 4 again. The "lecture-a-chapter" thing is getting annoying.) **At the end of his long monologue, Render was out of breath and Jonah was looking slightly uneasy. Jonah deadpanned the problem in the teen's problem. "What about me and your friends? You said it was an all-infected city." Render stood by his chair, thinking deeply for a few seconds. "That might not be a problem actually. You've been covered in zombie blood and/or guts at sometime right? And you've been breathing in the air around your friends?" Jonah, not quite grasping what he meant, nodded hesitantly. "Well then, the odds of you being a Carrier for the Green Flu are fairly high. Even if you don't show any signs of the disease physically, you can still infect someone by breathing on them or by getting any of your bodily fluids inside _their _bodies."

Jonah groaned miserably and said, "Are you saying that I've got the most dangerous STD in the world right now?" Render outright laughed at that. "If it makes you feel any better, because your infected, you can have the pick of the entire world for a girlfriend! Considering most of the remaining populations of unaffected humans are actually Carriers that is." Jonah groaned exasperatedly and _thunk_-ed his head on the table. However, as the others began chatting and bickering again, a stray thought flew by in his mental cloud of turmoil: _How do they know so much? Render is hiding something... something that could get us all killed, or leads towards his own agendas... and I intend to find out..._

The luncheon continued without anything of import being passed around by the table's inhabitants. The groups sat and ate, occasionally making conversation between mouthfuls of food and drink. Render decided to tell a story that happened once to he and Andrew at the beginning of the apocalypse. "OK, guys. So, one day, sometime during the morning, I get a call from across town on my cell. Andrew tells me he found a new way to entertain ourselves that, while a little cruel, also cheered us up considerably. It turns out that Jockeys and Hunters are attracted to laser pointers! So while I'm talking to Andrew, I hear a bunch of yelling and laughing on the other end. Andrew was being face raped by a vengeful Jockey because he was taunting it." Render's friends broke into fits of laughter, and Jonah's group chuckled at the absurdity of the young teenagers. This retelling brought a memory to the surface of Ryan's mind.

"Hey, Andrew, is it? Weren't you making off with a few Hunter's pants earlier?" Everyone who wasn't at that disaster in the making turned to look at Andrew. Owen said incredulously, "You did WHAT?" Render and Ryan face palmed (carefully) as the guys went over to congratulate their friend on pulling such an amazing prank. Eventually, things calmed down and everyone finished up their meals happily. Render smiled to himself. Eating with his friends, making conversation, relaxing, no insane zombies...

It was home. But not for long.

**Final A/N: Sorry guys, but no tribute. I'm slowly running out of people to use. Anyway, this was more of a short filler chapter. However, the action and adventure should pick up in the next chapter or so. Don't worry, no one is going to get to safety easily – the L4D survivors know that. There will definitely be more death, destruction, humor, adventure, drama and mystery along the way!**


	11. Chapter 11

After concluding their mealtime, the group had settled on splitting up to search for more supplies that would be essential to surviving the North American wasteland. Unfortunately for them, Render and Jonah had been chosen to buy more clothing for everyone along with the females of the group, Andrew, Owen, Eric, Thom and Ryan would be getting the ammo and firearms, while Geoff, Fred and Jackson purchased food and medical supplies.

Render grumbled something unintelligible as he was unwillingly dragged to one of his least favorite places in the world. Ever since he was just a little kid, he had absolutely hated shopping of any sort unless it included toys, video games or Warhammer 40k. He took a short moment to mourn over the beautifully painted figures his dad had lovingly created, but snapped to attention as the still functioning sliding doors opened with a whoosh. Grimacing, Render followed the more than eager girls, who had been praying for a chance to get new clothing.

Meanwhile, the guys were browsing through a large and very impressive armory near the center of Cherrygrove. Chatter was passed back and forth as the young zombie slayers picked up their weapons of choice. Ryan had spotted a sniper rifle almost exactly similar to the tier 2 sniper from Left 4 Dead 2. He gasped quietly as he picked it up. It reminded him of his old one, before he... But that story was for another time. Finally, the five survivors left the store with their backpacks and arms filled with explosives and weapons of all sorts.

The last splinter group to complete their assignment – Geoff, Fred, and Jackson – met up with the others, holding several duffel bags of foodstuffs and the like. Geoff had pointed out that Render's increased metabolism could and would burn through most of the food in a matter of days. This complication lingered in the backs of their minds as they scrutinized the different goods they had assembled. It was as much as they could carry and afford, so in other words, a medium sized pile of stuff.

"Hey guys!" Jonah shouted to get the attention of his friends. "I see you had luck with finding food." Render, Screen and Jenna were pointedly ignoring Jackson, who stepped slightly behind Geoff in an attempt to hide his shame. Fred spoke up, "And it would seem the clothes shopping went well. Hey is that a pink hoodie I see?" Being only slightly serious, Jonah asked, "What do you think the odds of making Ryan wear this would be?" Fred gave a short laugh and replied, "Depend's on who's asking him to wear it.

Anyways, we have a slight problem with food. See, with Render's accelerated metabolism, this food will be gone in a matter of days. And without a way to transporting more food than this, we're stuck in a rut." Render frowned slightly at being the cause of a major problem for the combined groups. Jenna said thoughtfully, "That is a problem." Jonah scratched his head in thought, before heading towards the hotel. "Hey, where are you going?" Jonah called over his shoulder distractedly, "Just to ask Clark some questions." Jenna and the others could only shrug at each other.

Several hours later, Ryan, Render and Owen were standing around in the large pile of weapons and rounds that coated the floor of Render's room. "Nice spread," Render complimented on the work of his friends. However, he noticed something out of place. "Hey what's up with the sniper rifle?" Ryan grabbed it and said, "That would be mine." There was a note of determination in his voice, as if he was prepared to defend his claim.

How are you going to get to the trigger?" Render was curious as to why an infected meant for close combat would require a long range precision gun. Ryan responded by quickly yanking off the trigger guard and flicking it away. "Ah. Like that. Do you know how to use that thing?" Lost in memories, Ryan said quietly, "Yes, it was... something of an essential for me before the infection." Render could tell Ryan was reliving memories that should never have happened. The young teen knew this feeling, as he had done things that no man should, dark secrets that he would never tell of and hold unto his dying day.

Despite his tone, Owen asked, "What do you mean?" The blonde boy picked up two different pistols, weighing them in his hands. "It's... nothing. Hey, where'd Jonah get to?" Ryan asked in hopes of changing the subject. Render narrowed his eyes; he'd get answers one day if it killed him. This glare passed as he responded, "Dunno. Last I saw him, he was going into the hotel to ask Clark some questions." The trio turned their heads as one as, speak of the devil, Jonah walking in through the door.

A black liquid was smeared across Jonah's face as he picked his way through the tangled mess of firearms and grenades.

"The hell happened to you?" Jonah yawned loudly, stretching his tired arms. "Nothing." Looking around, he asked Render jokingly, "Is this your room or the armory?" Jonah took a seat on a rolling chair by the writing desk on the other side of the room. "Believe it or not, this is actually my room." Render responded. However, it was obvious Jonah wasn't listening, so he turned his attention to a strange looking handgun near Ryan. "What kind of pistol is that?" Ryan smiled dryly as he thought, _Just as curious as a feral Hunter._

Ryan replied with, "Taser. A very well disguised taser, at that..." He snatched the gun up and examined it. "The trigger gives it away." He gave a quick squeeze of the finger. "Bolted in place. If I were to take a guess, I'd say there's a button on the handle to activate it." Owen nodded, uttering a drawn out "Cool."

The next few days passe by without much note. However, on the second day, Render was lounging on one of the very comfy couches in the main lobby. He had awoken in a great mood, to a warm meal and even hotter shower. However, something had been nagging at him for several days now in the back of his mind. When he focused on it, Render realized it was a floating memory he had been suppressing for a while now. He immersed himself in past events, quietly observing the past.

_A violent explosion threw the armed survivors to the wind, scattering the entire group. Connor forced himself up off of the group, snarling as he reached around and yanked Eric to his feet. The tall, disheveled boy shook his head as Connor gunned down an incoming Common with a quick burst. He glanced at Eric and yelled over the screams and gunfire in the background, "ERIC! Find the others and your gun, we need to get out of here before CEDA passes around for another strafe!" His hearing muted, Eric nodded and dashed off to find the other boys in their makeshift squad, pausing to lean down and scoop up his double barrel sawed off shotgun. Connor turned around to see a man stumble to his feet, just to be rammed by a baying Charger._

_ The man was crushed and killed instantly as the Charger slammed into a wall that crumbled as it was hit. Screaming in anger, Connor unloaded the remaining rounds in his Uzi at the beast, wanting revenge for the man who had been killed before his bloodshot eyes. Grunting in pain the Charger lined up for a run at the young human harming it. Just before it could claim another victim, a vicious crack sounded, and the Charger fell over with a massive thud. Thom stood on a rubble pile, smiling and saluting his friend, a smoking Ruger Mini-14 in his left hand._

_ Grinning in bloodlust, Connor shouted a rushed, "Thanks!" and ran towards the still fighting adults. Despite being older and more experienced, the men and women of the town had terrible accuracy as a whole and tended to simply waste ammo. But what else would one expect from those who hadn't been practicing for a scenario like this for several years such as the many teens? When they had reestablished contact with each other, the Left 4 Dead veterans had banded together, creating experienced kill teams based on experience, not age, race or gender._

_ After blasting through several more Commons, Connor noticed a pitch black shadow and a low pitched humming. Eyes wide, he screamed at everyone nearby as he ran, "EVERYBODY MOVE! THE JETS ARE COMING BACK AROUND!" The ragged line of fighters broke and ran for cover as the military bombers flew overhead. Heart pounding, blood pumping, adrenaline souring, Connor spun around just in time to see the first bomb fall..._

Coming out of his trance-like stupor, Render grunted and shook his head. Things like that were best left untouched and alone. It would do no one good to dwell too much on the horrors of the past. Heaving himself up, Render took his sweet time to go up the stairs and to his room. Why the rush? The survivors had all the time in the world, without school, chores, homework, deadlines,work... All of the little things that made living have a short term meaning...

A day later, Andrew wandered around behind the hotel due to sheer boredom. It was early afternoon, and Jonah hadn't been seen all day. Everyone assumed he was working on his not-so-secret plan. It was obvious he was doing something to surprise everybody. With a mild jolt of surprise, Andrew discovered a monstrous creation of a vehicle. It appeared to be several buses glued together with a fuck ton of tape, glue and welding. Or at least, the bastardized components of separate buses.

Cautiously walking inside the door, he spotted Jonah sitting on a swivel chair by a desk. He took a moment to call the groups outside, then proceeded to shake the older teen awake. Jonah sat up with a jolt. "I'm up! I'm up." Ryan had walked up behind Andrew and now asked in an uncertain voice, "Jonah, what the hell is this thing?" Jonah smiled widely and told him proudly, "This? This is our own personal apocalypse RV, Ryan."

As everybody admired the work and planning Clark and Jonah had put into the Frankenbus, Jonah launched into a detailed description of the features he had installed to ensure maximum survival guarantee. This... is where you've been for the past three days?" Jackson asked disbelievingly. Jonah replied, "Yep. I've always been interested in automotive work and this is probably the best work I've ever done and perhaps will do." Ryan patted Jonah's shoulder, still in awe of the size and strange magnificent (if strange) beauty of a vehicle. "Not bad, kid, not bad. Alright everyone, back inside. We still have things to pack before tomorrow."

The next day, our heroes assembled themselves into a line outside of the bus. Jonah, Render, Andrew and Ryan walked up to the front of their friends. Render took the initiative and cleared his throat. "Alright everyone, this is it. We're heading out of Cherrygrove today. We have, I _think, _at least four more towns before we get anywhere near Hard Rain. Two are Sentient settlements, while the other two are survivor camps. Now, we have several ultimate objectives to keep in mind: 1. Avoid CEDA at all costs, including after reaching safety. 2. Survival is most important, and teamwork's the same. 3. Don't kill any survivors. And the final one: this ain't a game, guys. Be careful." With that little speech out of the way, Render walked over to the end of the line with Andrew.

Jonah watched him for a moment, and then turned his eyes back to the small crowd. "OK, thanks for that I guess. Anyways, everybody keep a hold on your stuff, take any last minute bathroom breaks, and we'll head out." The fourteen assorted individuals spread out, going about their last minute business before departure. Andrew and Fred took a pee break, Ellie drifted over to Ryan, Thom inspected his scoped rifle, Eric and Owen began putting everything in the weapons lockers Jonah had installed, Render searched through his iPod for some traveling music, Geoff and Jonah went inside the massive RV, and Screen and Jenna took Ripper inside as well. After a couple of minutes, everybody was ready to leave when Render remembered something.

"Wait guys, we can't leave without thanking Clark for all his help first! I'll run inside real quick and tell him thanks from everyone." Render hopped out the front door and dashed into the main lobby. "Clark! Clark!" The Tank looked up from his newspaper. "Yeah, Render, what is it?" Render, slightly winded, said, "We're about to leave, so I came in to say thanks for everything you've done for us, from the others and me." Clark chuckled and told him, "You know, kid, before I was infected, I would always help out others when I could. It was no problem." Render smiled a toothy grin and yelled out a quick "See ya later!" as he ran back to the rest of his friends.

As the massive motor gave a roar as it started, Clark chuckled quietly and shook his head. Those kids... they had reminded him of his drive and determination to reach his family and safety before he became infected. And as much as he hoped they succeeded, Clark couldn't help but feel something would go wrong.

For as we all know, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

**A/N: OK, guys, this chapter was taking longer than I had wanted, so I decided to cut it here and let Maxforce take the lead for a while and decide what happens next. I also continue to forget my disclaimers, but you all know at this point that I don't own Left 4 Dead. Oh, and just out of curiosity: how come I don't get any reviews anymore? Chapter 10 must have been perfect or something, because no one even commented. Please, if you can, leave a review or SOMETHING to let me know somebody out there is still reading. I also realized I need to update much faster...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead.**

** A/N: OK, guys, I'm back with a new chapter! Not much else to say, except that I've started a companion piece to this about before Render became infected. I'd appreciate it if you guys went and checked it out, as I've gotten only one review so far, and from Andrew, who could just talk to me in reality.**

As Render hopped back in through the open door, Jonah announced, "Alright, let's get this thing moving." He began pulling levers and twisting the keys as Render swung the hatch closed behind him. As the engine began to purr, Render watched Jonah sigh in relief. "Jonah, what did you think the odds of this thing starting up were?" Jonah simply replied, "About fifty-five percent sure." That didn't sound very good. "And the other forty-five?" Nervously, Jonah said, "Um... I'd rather not discuss what went through my head at the time." The huge vehicle pulled out of the scrapyard, earning many varying looks from the passing citizens as they reached the gates. "Alright, where's our first stop?"

Looking out the window, Render nonchalantly told Jonah as he moved behind him, "Actually, I was thinking maybe we could drive straight to Hard Rain." _Once everyone's safe... then I can do my own thing. _Render thought, contemplating the chances of his plan going wrong. What were the odds of that happening? Render walked back, plopping down at the table Andrew and Owen were sitting at. The others went about their business, organizing supplies or simply chatting. The atmosphere was peaceful and, admittedly, relieved. They had not really received a warm welcome in the infected town, and everyone was glad to not a have a (large) constant threat hanging over them.

Hours passed, and everyone except Jonah and Ripper had clambered into their separate bunks. Render shifted slightly, punching his pillow to fluff it. Closing his blood red eyes, he attempted to get some sort of rest before the next dreary day began. He quickly fell into unconsciousness, dreaming of more pleasant times. He found himself standing in a brightly lit living room, a large table in the center, covered in beautifully detailed models and scenery. Andrew stood across from him, the sunlight illuminating his competitive smile. "You may have lots of troops, Connor, but I have the power of Chaos!" He declared mightily, inspecting the table and how his troops were doing. Render realized this was a memory of a few months ago; the two had had a huge Warhammer 40k battle going on for several hours, Space Marines and Imperial Guard versus the forces of Chaos.

Render lost immersed himself in the memory, reveling in a chance to relive the happier moments of his short life. It reminded him of a time when he could simply relax and not worry about the weight of the world, lounging about the house. For a short time, Render felt at peace with himself and the world. However, as the battle began to reach it's climax, with his overwhelming tide of forces pushing back Andrew's measly amount of units, the imaginary world shattered into a red haze. Render sat up hastily as Ryan hook him awake. Instantly, Render was angry at Ryan for disrupting his happy dreams, and responded accordingly. "Why the fuck am I awake at four in the morning?" He asked furiously, noting the time on a nearby wall clock.

Ryan shrugged it off, pointing out the windshield and saying, "Because of that. I decided to take the liberty of driving ahead a bit when I came upon this. After doing a quick recon, I learned it's a survivor camp. With big guns. _Really _big guns." He glanced down at the still fuming hybrid. "You five seem like hardcore gamers. So I assume you know what a mini gun is. Because I saw three on just one side of this encampment. I don't even want to imagine what they've got in other areas." Render realized that even their monster of an R.V. Wouldn't be able to withstand the punishment _three _mini guns could dish out. The rounds would puncture it's sides like a chainsaw through a Common infected.

Jonah asked, "So what do we do? Drive around?" Ryan determinedly stated, "No. We're gonna go straight through. But first, we figure out how to hide the Sentients in our group. Now, Jenna, Screen, and myself would be pretty easy. We just need to find something with a hood for Screen, while Jenna and I find a way to hide our claws. Heavy duty work gloves, maybe, or we just keep 'em in our pockets. We can use the rain poncho we got for Ellie,which is more than big enough to hide her body and claws. Render... hm, maybe we can do the same for you that Jenna and I can do. Fred, Geoff, you guys are damn near shit outta luck. We can maybe hide you in the back, _maybe._ We'll just have to hope that they aren't big fans of vehicle checks."

Owen piped up from the back. "Wait... maybe... we can say we captured them." Ryan said, "What?" Render took up Owen's point. "CEDA is surely looking for specimens. (_And me...)_ And I can't think of a better way to get through a survivor camp than to pretend we're their so called saviors." Ryan rubbed his chin lightly as he thought. "Alright, now answer me this. Where do we get the suits?" Jonah shuffled around slightly, obvious he had something to tell them. "Jonah. Is there something you'd like to share with the group?"

Jonah spoke up nervously. "Um... well, one of the vehicles I used to make this thing was a CEDA vehicle. There was a rack there that Clark and I hadn't been able to get open, as well as a container of some kind, but we built it into the vehicle just in case. There might be some uniforms in there." Render's eye twitched at his friend's words. But he stopped being angry as he realized that the people who used the vehicle before it's re-purposing had most likely been slaughtered or infected by the infected at Cherrygrove. Render also came to the conclusion that he didn't want to know what _exactly _happened to them.

"Jackson, give me a hand." Jonah and Jackson moved to the back of the bus, and gripped the edges of a seat. They pulled it off, which surprised everyone else, as they hadn't been expecting movable parts on the bus-hybrid. Pointing at the concealed space, Jonah told them, "That handle there. The container and rack are stacked together. The rack is first, followed by the container. Two birds, one stone, if we get lucky with uniforms."

Ryan walked up to the seat and took a closer look at the lock. "Kid, you are something else. Hey, anyone got a pin? Girls?" Ryan looked over expectantly at the three female members of the group. Jenna, being a feminist, asked, "And what makes you think we have any?" However, as Ellie handed Ryan a hairpin from her scalp, Jenna simply said, "Oh."

Ryan thanked her, and placed it in the lock. He jiggled it around, using his enhanced hearing to listen to the tumblers as they fell into place. Satisfied, he pronounced, "That should do it." He handed the makeshift key back to Ellie, who placed it in her hair. Jonah pulled on the metal handle, which swung open to reveal a full set of CEDA uniforms, with several different sizes. Ryan ruffled Jonah's hair, stating, "Kid, when this is all over, I'm gonna owe you big time." As disgruntled as he was with having to use CEDA uniforms, Render knew that their lives could be hanging on this gamble. What if the survivor camp wasn't with CEDA? What if it was full of non immunes? So many things could go wrong with their plan.

"OK, everybody, start getting ready. Jackson, Jonah, Jenna and I will wear the uniforms, Geoff and Fred hide in the back somewhere, Render and Ellie, you should find some sunglasses or something and hide your claws and Ellie can use the poncho, Screen, you should stuff your tongue in a hoodie and pull up the hood, and everybody else just act like your meant to be here." Ryan handed out orders in a few breaths. The entire group rushed about to try and follow through with their improbable plan.

As Render pulled his hood as far as it would go over his face and stuffed his hands in his front pocket, claws folded over themselves, he watched the others go about collecting their disguises. After everyone got into the correct position, Jonah moved around, helping each person adjust their outfit or location so that their story seemed plausible. Ryan and Jonah shared a glance, and Jonah climbed into the driver's seat. They slowly rumbled up to the makeshift shanty town, everyone tense and nervous about what would happen next.

The group held their collective breath as a group of armed and cautious guards approached the large and monstrous vehicle. The lead guard, a disheveled man of about forty years hesitantly knocked on the hatch-like door. Sharing one last glance with Ryan, Jonah got up and opened the door. The soldiers relaxed slightly at the sight of the young driver. Render narrowed his concealed eyes; these people were sloppy. What if the mysterious visitors wanted to fool them? They would be caught off guard easily. Only the lead man seemed to stay at attention. Eying the stolen uniforms, he asked suspiciously, "What are the likes of _you _doing here?" It instantly occurred to everyone in earshot that CEDA wasn't looked upon well by these survivors. Render was debating on whether saying _oops _or _oh shit._

Thinking quickly, he put in, "We're just using the uniforms 'cause our clothes are ruined." The lead man jumped at the sound of the demon-esque voice. He suspiciously inspected the interior of the vehicle, his eyes landing on the strange survivors in the back. The man, with a threatening undertone, asked, "Can I search your vehicle please? We wouldn't want any _accidents_ to happen during your stay." The man, along with his group of three guards, climbed inside, nosily picking through their belongings. It was obvious that several of the survivors (It's kind of easy to tell who) where grating their teeth together at the intrusion of privacy. However, it was understood by them, and therefore tolerated.

Jenna had to resist the urge to snarl and gore out the eyes of the men, who were ogling her and her sister. Screen was glad no one could see her face, as it was bright red and she wanted desperately to hide with Geoff and Fred in the back. Ellie and Jonah, however, were silently praying the men wouldn't find some reason to kill them all right then and there. The lead man looked at Render and asked, "What happened to your voice, kid?" Render had to resist clawing this guy'seyes out as he answered stiffly, "It's touchy."

Ryan noticed a storm coming as he and Render heard one man whisper, "That kid's creepy as fuck." Ryan intervened before the mobile home had a new garland of internal organs hanging from the ceiling. "Do we pass inspection, fellows? We're all really tired, and would appreciate a warm meal and some rest." The man begrudgingly nodded, saying gruffly, "You follow me and we'll go tell the camp leader we've got newbies." Before they could leave, however, Render called out, "Wait!" The man turned back towards him with an irritated glare. "Is this a camp of carriers? We're not entirely sure if we're immunes or just carriers." The man could have sworn the boy hesitated when he said they weren't sure. "Yeah, the camp's made up of immunes and carriers. Almost no non immune people are still alive." Going back to business, he led Ryan to the main building, and the others sat in silence with the guards.

Render was tempted to turn on his iPod and rock out, but remembered his claws just in time. He twiddled his thumbs in awkward silence, waiting for Ryan to return. After several minutes of sitting there, Ryan returned, stating, "OK, we've got it all worked out. We have a spot near the edge of camp. We're not allowed to make a lot of noise, be all around disruptive, and cannot hoard camp supplies." The guards left at the news, looking apathetically at the new arrivals as they dismounted. The group let out a collective breath when the survivors finally left. Jonah put the vehicle into 'drive' and slowly maneuvered through the tightly packed tents and homes. Many people stopped what they were doing to watch as the monstrosity referred to as a "R.V." passed them. Many people had blank, hollow looks, while others were beaming at the strange sight. A few children ran here and there, playing games and not understanding that humanity was nearing extinction.

Render knew the thousand mile stares he saw; they were very familiar to him, as many of his former home town's inhabitants had worn that expression for months on end. Well, until they all died or escaped, anyway. Ripper put his front legs up on the windowsill, tongue flapping about as he grinned a canine grin at the humans. After a minute or so of searching, Jonah found the spot they were told they could use. He slowly and carefully backed the huge patchwork vehicle into the spot, attempting to not destroy or squish anything.

As the group began checking over their items, changing back into their normal clothes or wandering about outside, Render slipped away, muttering a quick "I'll be back soon." Andrew heard him and flashed his friend a thumbs up. Render walked around the camp, attracting strange stares at his hidden face and hands. Rolling his eyes at the silly normal people, he began to search for any familiar faces. Even though CEDA had rescued most of his town, there was always the off chance he would come across someone he knew.

While he walked, Render came to the realization that the camp was much larger than they had originally assumed. How the hell had these people survived like this for so long? They only had a few walls around the place, and with the amount of prey here, one would think that infected would be flocking here like starving seagulls on a dumpster. Even with huge guns, the ill-equipped survivors would fall within less than an hour. Shrugging to himself, Render continued his exploration.

Eventually, he ended up near the main building, a crumbling creation that appeared to have seen better days. It seemed to be some kind of camping center before the apocalypse, so it seemed that this survivor camp was once a normal campground. Wandering in, Render startled the young woman at the desk, who was taken aback by the sight of a frankly scary young teen silently appear in front of her. Render smiled to himself as the girl attempted to stammer out a greeting. Ever since he became infected, Render found that he could become very quiet at times and scare the shit out of a lot of people, especially unaware people. The woman, who seemed to be in her early twenties, finally managed to get out "H-hello young man. How c-can I help you today?" Keeping his face concealed, he asked, "I actually came to talk to this camp's leader. We just arrived on our, err, 'bus', I guess, and I wanted to know a little more about this place."

At this point, the woman became suspicious of the person in front of her. Not only did he go to great lengths to conceal his features, but he didn't know of the radio broadcasts being sent from the tower within the camp. For almost two weeks, they had been receiving more and more new survivors that had heard the broadcast, but these survivors seemed to know nothing of this fact, and had been seen wearing CEDA uniforms. Were they collectors or escaped subjects?

Keeping her tone even, she said politely and sweetly, "I'm sure he's not doing anything right now, honey, so go right on in! His office is done the hall to your right, the last door on the left. If he's doing something, please come back here and I'll answer your questions as best I can." Render looked up at her, revealing his pale lips and bringing them back into a closed smile. "Thank you, ma'am." As he left the lobby, Render absentmindedly wondered to himself, _Why couldn't people be that nice in the drive thru or on the phone BEFORE the damn world ended? _Unbeknownst to him, however, the kind women at the front desk had quietly pressed an intercom button, whispering to the guards that a strange person was going to meet with the camp leader, and to watch him carefully.

The second Render set foot on the doorway of the office, he could smell the scents of at least half a dozen men in the room. Closing his eyes and focusing, he used his extreme hearing and coupled with his nose, he could make out several blurred together scents – mostly of fear or anxiety. It seemed the woman had alerted the guards to his mysterious presence and wish. Smiling grimly, he thought, _They're right to be cautious._ He nudged the cracked open door with the tip of his foot, Render walked inside, looking around the spacious, but cluttered, room. Most of it was paperwork, but there seemed to be some rooms off to the side – probably used to hide the security he had discovered.

In the center of the office sat a middle aged man who was typing away on a computer for whatever reason. Render cleared his throat, which startled the concentrating man. He looked up, and Render could see a scratched and scuffed nametag that read "Harold Jones" on it in bold letters. He had large, cold gray eyes and a head of close shaven black hair, shot through with streaks of silver. The stereotypical military general or mayor look.

Jones sat straighter and addressed his unnerving visitor. "Hello, son," He began. "I'm Harold Jones, leader of this here group of survivors. I heard your group just arrived, and your friend came to ask me some questions. What do you need?" It did not go unnoticed by Render that the man was fingering the edge of his desk – and likely, a concealed handgun for protection. Render smiled challengingly, daring Jones to make a move. After a few seconds, his smirk faded, and Render began his own form of interrogation. "I have a few little things I'd like to know about, yeah. A few... personal things." Jones was slightly intimidated by the cold tone to this boy's voice as he said "personal things."

Render walked up to the battered desk and disgruntled man. "First things first: my name's Connor... but you can call me Render." He flashed a toothy grin at the man, who's mouth gaped in shock at the pointed and vaguely bloodstained teeth that appeared. Render was shitting his pants laughing in his head at Jones' reaction. He loved messing with people so much. "Now for my question: what do you know about CEDA? I need anything and everything." Jones, still frightened by the strange sight of Render's teeth, answered shakily, "A-all I know i-is that CEDA c-caused this whole thing." Render frowned and glared at the man. "Oh? So that's _all _you know about them?"

Jones looked side to side, and motioned for Render to move closer. Render put his covered ear next to the man's lips. "Every few days, CEDA comes and runs these tests on the people here. They drag the 'positive' ones off, and their test subjects are never heard from again. They threatened to burn down the camp and massacre everyone left here if we didn't get more specimens for them – so we're forced to call in more survivors. We've nearly starved to death on several occasions." Jones leaned back, and Render's frown turned into a shocked "O". He knew CEDA wasn't exactly made up of saints, but still... this was beyond anything he had thought was going on. Another piece had just been added to the board.

Render turned to face Jones. "Well, I've got a bone or two to pick with CEDA and more than a few skeletons in my closet involving them. I'll see if there's anything we can do." Jones looked at Render in surprise, shocked that someone was willing to help them. "Well, thank you, but that's not possible-" Render pulled a hand out and lay it on the desk. Jones eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Pulling his left hand out, Render let his hood fall back to reveal his demonic red eyes. "Trust me," He said, his eyes piercing Jones' soul, "We can do it. Be back later!" Covering himself back up, Render walked back the way he came and went in the direction of their camp. He had some news to tell. Behind him, a dumbfounded man wondered just what kind of fresh hell was about to be unleashed on his camp.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:****I****don't****own****Left****4****Dead.**

** A/N: OK, everybody, sorry about the ridiculous wait. However, we must all face the unfortunate reality of something called school. What with tons of homework and having a collaboration, updates will be once or twice a month. I'm really sorry about that. BUT, if I have time, I will work on It's All A Game until Maxforce can get his next chapter out. IMPORTANT: The rating for this chapter is hovering around M due to blood, gore, and mature subjects.**

When Render reached camp once more, Jonah asked him, "Render, where have you been?" Render, wording his sentence carefully, replied, "Talking. The leader knows, by the way. About me." Everyone who was able to be outside groaned in exasperation. Ryan, scowling, said, "What the hell did you do?" Render looked at him and was shocked by his companion's appearance. Ryan had his hood down and his face was revealed. He had pitch black hair, glazed over eyes with silver irises. His teeth weren't as long as Render would have thought, but they were obviously still dangerous. "What?" Ryan asked, wondering why Render was staring at him strangely. Render shook his head and continued.

Nothing. Just talked, like I said... And... um... offered our services to the camp..." He trailed off, looking down and fiddling with his iPod. Ryan prompted him to go on with "Such as?" Awkwardly, Render told them, "Er... CEDA..." Ryan, still not pleased with the answer, asked, "A little more?" Sighing angrily, Render said, "Look, if you want to know so much, then why don't you just talk to him yourself?" Ryan, yanking his hood up with a growl, said, "You are something else, kid." Before promptly walking towards the center of camp. Shaking their heads, Jonah and the others went about their business. Render watched Ryan shrink into the distance.

Render knew he was far from perfect; he tended to rush into situations quickly with little thought. However, the severity of CEDA's misgivings had made him offer to help. He knew personally what kinds of torture the people they had would be going thorugh. There was no _what__if_ with CEDA. It was always yes or no. Black or white. Render sighed and entered the bus. He headed towards the back and used his enhanced strength to pull the cage-like compartments doors open. Geoff and Fred stood there, disorientated by the sudden burst of light in the dark confines of the hiding spot. "You guys want anything to eat while I'm in here?" Render offered. Geoff said, "I'd like a drink, please." Fred said, "Yeah, me too."

Render walked to the fridge and pulled on the handle. He pulled out a pair of water bottles, cut the tops off with a claw, and gave them to Geoff and Fred. Render left the door open, as no one could see enough of the inside to notice the extra occupants. He trudged back outside and leaned against the side of the bus as Ryan came back, fuming mad. He nodded to Render. "Alright, kid. I can't speak for everyone, but I can tell you I'm in." Render flashed the older infected a toothy grin. "Cool." Jonah walked towards them, having only caught the tail end of the brief exchange. "Guys, what's going on?" Ryan answered easily, "We're declaring war on CEDA." Render's smile faded slightly. He had just wanted to save any survivors in the compound, but if they fought CEDA, a war was almost inevitable.

"What? Why? Can't this be discussed instead?" Jonah asked, shocked. Ryan began to clean his sniper rifle as he spoke. "Jonah, there are some things in this world that I cannot forgive. CEDA has this place by the throat. Their demands are specimens. The consequences include the possible burning down of this area and even a cut off from food. CEDA's made their true intentions clear. Next time they come here, we're sending a message that this place is off of their travel stops from this days forward." Jonah, with a tone that made both of the other males look at him, "Ryan, there's always a peaceful solution. Before you do anything, at least let me see if I can make a deal with them." Ryan and Render shared a look, making it obvious they shared the same sentiments. "Jonah, I don't think that'll work with these people." Jonah, moving to stand in the doorway of the bus, said, "You just have to talk to the right people. But if I can't change their minds..." He disappeared within the confines of the hulk.

"What was that about?" Render asked, confused as to his friends display. He had become hardened despite his tender age, and had next to no qualms about killing, especially people that put him through so much mental and physical torture. Ryan shrugged. "I have no idea. In fact, I don't know a lot about Jonah. I never wanted to ask." Ryan stood up, moving away to continue cleaning his rifle. Render sighed again. Why did life have to be so damn depressing as of late? He flicked the switch on his iPod, selecting King Nothing by Metallica. Then he got up to use the bathroom. _Stupid__long__as__hell__claws,_he grumbled mentally. _And__stupid__thin__toilet__paper._

A little while later (and a lot of shredded toilet paper and cursing), the normal looking of the group assembled to make their game plan. Ryan pulled out a tattered and yellowed map and flattened it out on the table. He pointed to a highlighted area. "Ok, guys," He started, "this is where Jones told me that CEDA has set up base. It's somewhere in the forest, and they've apparently got a bunker there. We – as in the infected of our merry band – will be assaulting CEDA. However," Ryan continued, stopping the flow of complaints, "The rest of you will be helping to guard the camp in case CEDA is following us and decide to attack the people here. Jones said we can take anything we want from the armory before we leave, too. Let's move people." And without another word, the group separated.

The five gun toting survivors headed towards the meager armory. When Jackson threw open the heavy metal doors, they were greeted by a sight one would expect from a scene in Call of Duty. Many older generation weapons lined the walls, and some new ones as well. Smiling like the Cheshire cat, Andrew pulled a Spectre SMG from the weapon racks. The only other person to switch weapons was Owen, who grabbed a Uzi and accompanying ammo. Everyone grabbed pipe bombs, grenades, and ammo before they left for the main gates. Meanwhile, Render, Screen, Jenna, and Ryan were moving out already. Without a single good-bye, the infected set out, hell-bent on revenge. Jones watched them go from his office, dreading the possibility of one of them not returning.

Ryan and Render, who held the map, lead the way through the dense trees. Connor shuddered as he remembered the last time he was in the Pine Barrens. He could only pray that they didn't meet any infected bears this time. The thick canopy above blocked out most of the decrepit light given off by the cloud-covered sun, reducing visibility – for humans anyway. It cast long and disconcerting shadows along the ground. Jenna shook slightly as the insane laughter of a Screamer drifted through the darkened trees. Suddenly, the Hunters perked their heads at the slight crunch of leaves. Render identified the sound as... hooves. Through the bushes, he could hear heavy, steamy breathing. Almost as if something were stalking them... Pushing the older infected onwards, he said hurriedly, "Let's move a little faster." Ryan understood what he meant and urged the confused southern girls to keep moving.

Eventually, after almost an hour of speed walking, the four came into a clearing of the dreary trees. Render sighed as the strange sounds faded behind them. Still, with all that had happened in his short life, he wasn't going to tempt the Devil by saying "What could go wrong?" Meanwhile, looking ahead, Ryan spotted a rotting wooden shack along the edge of the clearing, it's sheet metal door rusting and squeaky. Pointing at it with a claw, he announced, "Let's go check it out." The four moved towards the cabin, wary for any surprises. Ryan cautiously nudged the door open with his sniper, peering into the dusty gloom. He whispered, "Clear," and moved inside, panning his weapon around the room. Screen, Jenna, and Render followed after him.

The group searched the cabin, looking for anything useful or out of place. However, after several minutes, it was clear they couldn't find anything. Render huffed angrily and kicked his foot against the moldy carpet by the center of the room. Not only was this a bad idea with elongated and clawed toenails, but he stubbed his toes on a thick hunk of metal. Cursing in pain, he hopped around, falling onto his side. While Jenna laughed at his plight and Screen giggled, Ryan went to investigate the offending piece of metal. Lifting the rotting rug up, he discovered a rusting hatch set into the floor with a small protruding handle. Tugging on the handle, it slowly creaked open. By now, the others had gathered around and were watching Ryan. Turning around, he said, "Looks like we might have found the bunker after all." Crouching down farther, he leaped into the yawning opening. Jenna hesitantly followed, with Screen going after her. With one last glance around the room, Render jumped into the abyss.

He landed with a 'thump' on something soft and... squishy? "Whoops, sorry Screen," He said, rolling off his friend. A muffled "It's okay" reached his ears. Screen stood up, rubbing her head. Ryan, meanwhile, was flailing around in an attempt to find a switch of some sort. Eventually, his hand brushed up against a lever on one of the walls. Feeling around that area, he grabbed the lever and pulled it down. Bright fluorescent lights blared to life, causing Render and Jenna to fall to the ground with a pair of yelps, the bright light hurting their sensitive eyes. The light revealed a metal lined tunnel, leading to a door similar to a submarine hatch. Screen helped the two up and Ryan blinked rapidly to clear his flashing vision. Reinstating control, he said, "Let's go, everyone, and be quiet." The four began to make their way down the metal corridor.

Ryan gripped the handholds, putting all his strength into opening the hatch. It didn't budge an inch, but when the other three joined, it slowly started turning. After a few minutes of continual effort, the door finally swung inwards, revealing a stereotypical lab setup. Several desks with computers, some doors, the kind of thing one would see in an office. Strangely, the entire area was deserted. Render just hoped they didn't know they were there yet. However, he failed to notice the camouflaged security camera in the corner of the high ceiling. It turned slowly and quietly as it followed their movements. The man watching the screen drummed his fingers on his desk, give a thoughtful _hmm_as he puffed on a cigarette.

The Sentients quickly moved across the room, crouching down to lower the chances of being spotted. Ryan picked a door at random, twisting the knob silently and peaking through. He motioned with his hand to move forward. The next section of the base was a brightly lit hallway, with a water cooler in the middle, and stainless white walls. Again, nobody was around, which everyone found strange, considering this seemed to be one of CEDA's main bases. Following the hallway, the four found themselves in a different kind of lab. This one looked like a torture room, considering the rusty blood stains covering the floor, and the drains scattered around. Several chairs with leather binding were around the room, along with tables-full of scalpels, knives, and other similar tools. Render began to hyperventilate; this was bringing up some deeply buried memories. He was put into a room like this a few times. They would tie him down, then they would watch him squirm, and then they would take their tools from Hell and cut him so _slowly_-

Oh god, he had to stop thinking about things like that. It could get them all killed or, worse, be captured. Shaking himself, Render took the lead, faintly recognizing the layout of the base as similar to the last one he was in. The other three watched him carefully, hoping he would pull through. They didn't want to think about what had happened last time Render had been in a CEDA base; don't ask, don't tell. Shaking his head lightly, Render motioned to keep going. His eyes seemed glazed over and distant, as if he were remembering something, yet he continued to lead them. It almost like seemed his body knew where to go.

After going around some corners and stairs, they still had not seen a single soul. Render still had a glazed expression, and was leading them deeper into the facility. He had a distressed look now, and began to slowly move faster. Ryan believed he knew what was going on. But how...? Ryan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Suddenly, breaking the quiet like a firecracker, voices could be heard down the hall. Render sucked in a breath, and began crouch walking as fast as possible while remaining stealthy. They turned the final corner to find a large gathering of scientists. They were standing in front of a large window looking down on a medical amphitheater. The scientists chatted like one would expect before the world had ended. As they moved closer, Render tried to peer through the window, cursing his dark clothing and it's inability to blend with the wall. Eventually he got close enough to look through the glass. What he saw nearly made him choke in shock.

Below them were infected strapped to tables. However, these were not the infected one would expect. Some appeared to be truly undead, another resembled a gray, sexless Spitter, and the last... was another Render. (Our) Render gasped loudly, then quickly covered his mouth. The scientists down the hall stopped talking and turned towards the source of the interruption. No one moved or made any noise as the two groups examined each other in wide eyed shock. The four infected began to back away, at the same time the scientists did. As each group reached their end of the hall, they stopped moving. No one moved for what felt like an eternity. Then, turning around, Render shouted, "**RUN!**" The four bolted as the scientists screamed for security.

The infected raced back the way they came, dodging the security guards being thrown at them. They blindly ran, simply hoping they were going the right way. They ducked and weaved around the angry humans trying to restrain them and drag them back to Hell. At one point, a three way hallway was blocked on the right and front by armed guards. Render swung a quick left, dashing down the hall and followed by the others. They kept running and didn't stop until they hit a vault-like door. It slid open upon sensing them there, and the four ran in to hide. Ryan turned around and slammed his fist against the keypad on the inside of the door, causing it to emit sparks as it exploded. Wiping some sweat from his brow, he said, "OK, I think we lost them." When he didn't receive a response, he turned around to face his friends. He was greeted by a scene expected in Dead Space.

When they had darted inside, none of them realized the din until they took a second to catch their breaths. But then, they heard the horrible screaming. It was torn from the throat of every infected strapped to the tables in there. They had found the dissection room. Infected of all sorts were strapped to the tables, surgically disemboweled. The sight made Jenna vomit violently. The others were either screaming their heads off as well or trying to not barf. The worst part, though was what was happening in the back of the room. Survivors from the camp were strapped to surgical tables and were being forcefully injected with samples of the Green Flu. One man, a guy in his early twenties, was screaming hoarsely as razor-like claws pushed themselves from his fingertips. Frantic, Render began searching for something to destroy the room with, and found a supply closet along one wall. Opening it, he found a stack of assorted gas cylinders. Some were propane and others were standard laughing gas and such. Dragging several out, he twisted the seals until they broke.

Next, he began searching drawers and counters for a lighter or match or _anything._Ryan shakily began helping him. Eventually, they found a blowtorch and masking tape. Render lead the distressed girls out of the room while Ryan lit the torch and taped the trigger down. Running to the motion sensitive door, he tossed the blowtorch over his shoulder and ran like hell. The others followed closely behind as the sparking canister landed by the opened propane.

The following explosion rattled their teeth as they ran back down the hallways. Jenna and Screen were still sobbing as the four ran. Render knew they had to reach the surface soon or they were in deep shit. He did _not_want to be the one responsible for having his friends end up like those poor people in that room behind them. Unfortunately, the explosion had attracted the unwanted attention of the guards. They stopped at the end of the hall, pointing their assault rifles at the retreating infected. Render dropped to all fours and let loose an ear splitting screech. Using the guards disorientation against them, he pounced, claws spread wide. Ryan looked back as Render gutted one guard, throwing the screaming dead man into his partner. Render stumbled to his feet and trailed after him.

Once more, they raced blindly through the base, hoping the wouldn't be caught or stopped. Ryan lead them onward until they reached another lab. Praying it wasn't another dissection lab, Render waved at the motion sensor. Instead of a horror movie scene, it opened up to show a startled female scientist, her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her electric blue eyes widened as she realized four infected were staring her down. Putting her hands up as if she were trying to calm and enraged animal, she slowly backed towards a phone mounted on the wall. Render intercepted her with a leap and screech. The woman shrieked shrilly and fell on her rear as the adolescent pinned her down. Render growled threateningly in her ear and the scientist whimpered. Before he could deliver the final blow, however, he examined her face closer. His eyes lit up in rage, which confused Ryan and the girls. Did Render know this woman?

"You," Render throatily growled, causing the woman below him to flinch in shock at his voice. "You were one of the scientist's your precious director had _working_on me." The woman's eyes widened, and she said, "Subject Beta-7? How are you still-" Render dug his claws into her arm and growled again, silencing her. "Shut it, bitch," He threatened. This new Render was disturbing Screen. She had never seen her friend become so... _intense_before. Render continued. "How the hell are you still alive? I remember locking you and your sorry friend's asses up in the testing room." Clearing her throat, she said condescendingly, "Other people did have access cards, you know. And with all the ruckus you made, everyone was on heightened alert." Snapping his teeth in her face, he said, "Well, maybe I should finish the job."

The scientist's face paled at the thought. "Please, don't kill me!" She pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears. "I was the only one that treated you like a person! Remember all those times I brought extra food or medication when the others wanted to see how you you could go without your normal diet?" Tightening his grip, he said, "Wrong. You treated me like an animal, just like the others. But you thought I was more of a tame dog than a wolf. Guess what..." He said, grinning maniacally, "you were wrong." Ryan had had enough. "Render!" The boy's head popped up at his name. "Let's go, before the guards find us!" Snarling, Render said to the woman one last thing: "You got lucky this time. If I see your sorry ass again, I'll be picking you out of my teeth." At this point Ryan was becoming frightened of Render. This person just wasn't the happy-go-lucky kid he knew.

Standing up and turning around, Render mumbled, "Let's go already." He took the lead, his disturbed friends following him. Jenna looked back at the scientist, who had a terrified but relieved look on her face. After several minutes, it became clear that the group were fairly close. It seemed CEDA was still searching however, so they had to stick to the shadows as they crept along. They finally reached the lobby just as a patrol went by. Opening the hatch again, the infected escaped the CEDA base. It hadn't been the decisive blow they had wanted, and CEDA knew what they were up against, but it had definitely struck a point home: they weren't going to roll over and die.

The entire trip back, Render was quiet like when he had been leading them to the amphitheater. Ryan was cautiously watching him. After his little display in the CEDA bunker, everyone was wary of the volatile hybrid. When they reached the bunker at late evening, their friends rushed out to greet them, even Jonah. Everyone except the conquering heroes had a smile. They began to bombard the group with questions until Render growled and stalked off. Sighing, Ryan told the others, "I'll tell you guys tonight at dinner. We probably shouldn't go bother Render for now." The older infected lead them inside, where he told them of everything that had passed while they were gone.

Meanwhile, on a crumbling roof, Render was perched, watching the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. _One__day,__CEDA...__One__day__you__will__get__to__meet__your__maker._Render looked out at the blackened silhouettes of his friends as they moved about the bus. _And__I__won't__be__alone..._

**A/N:****So,****my****faithful****(or****remaining****lol)****readers,****I'm****back!****What****do****you****think?****Please****leave****me****a****review!****And****hopefully,****I****won't****ever****have****such****a****ridiculous****delay****again!**


	14. Chapter 14

** Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead.**

** A/N: This wait was worse than the last one! D,,,,: I'm so sorry everyone, Maxforce has had serious writer's block and you all probably thought I fell in a well and died or something. It eventually reached the point where he said "Screw it" and decided to let me have two chapters more than him. It'll be a bitch to catch up with, but after (hopefully) a short time, our schedule of an update per week will be back. However, there are also some other important details that I would like to say before getting on with the story. 1) I wrote a short one-shot about an insane fight between me and the other writers in of our L4D stories, with guest star Drake included. It's pretty much what happens when I use all of my known YouTube video references and too much time on my hands. 2) Due to our sporadic update schedule (at best), I am planning on starting a series on FictionPress (Fanfiction's sister website). I would like to know in a review: would you guys like to see a horror story about the ghost of a teenager unfairly put to death haunting his prosecutors, a Fallout fic about the original character from Fallout 1 and a desperate explorer on this site, or a sci-fi transformation story involving meteors, glowing fish with teeth, sharks, and people on the bottom of the ocean? Please tell me in a PM or review. On to the chapter! On a side note: OpenOffice is being really weird, so please tell me if everything is all screwed up.**

The sun's rays had been diminished to glowing red and orange beams along the horizon as Render sat, contemplating, on the roof of the main building in the survivor's camp. He sat in a pose similar to The Thinker, pondering on what course of action he and his band of buddies should take next. It was obvious that CEDA knew it was him that had attacked, if that bitch – Dr. Britney Alson if he remembered correctly – had spilled the beans. If they stayed much longer, it could get these people killed. On the other hand, CEDA may abduct more survivors, in an attempt to lure him out of hiding. Render let out a world-weary sigh, his heart leaden at the paths set before him. Neither option was very appealing – it was obvious the group was starting to become tired of moving constantly. Damned CEDA. The government serves the people, his ass. While the main portion of the U.S. Government may not support or know of CEDA's doings, they sure as hell weren't helping.

Render sighed deeply. When had everything become so damned complicated? He recalled the long Saturday afternoons, grinding Call of Duty and Halo with Sam, Drake, Andrew and Eric. They'd have a grand old time, laughing and enjoying themselves, making rude jokes, just being teenage boys. And then fate decided to plop the zombie apocalypse they had been planning in case of right onto their laps. Shaking his head to himself, he pulled out the earbuds on his iPod and selected Bad Voodoo by the Kreeps. Singing along softly, he pondered how much of his music reflected his everyday life as of late. He smiled grimly, saying, "_A grim priest at a funeral pyre..._ yeah."

The infected teen sat there, listening to his morbid songs, until a hand lightly touched his shoulder. He jumped, not hearing the person's arrival, nearly falling off the building face first. The hand grabbed his hood, yanking him back. Render looked up to see a smirking Jenna, his friend pulling out an earbud. "Whatcha doin'?" She asked innocently. Grinning in return, he said, "Just thinking." Jenna nodded, plopping down onto the roof beside him. "About?" Render sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "Today. Life in general. The future. Whatever crossed my mind, ya' know?" Jenna's grin reversed itself, becoming a concerned frown. "what did happen earlier? I've never seen you like that – honestly, you scared the three of us. I could see it on Ryan's and Screen's faces." Render chuckled, stating with a final laugh, "I've got an itch in my brain that can't be scratched away." At his counterpart's confused face, he simply stated, "Old troubles."

Jenna stared him down until he broke; "That was one of the scientists who _cared _for me when... when CEDA had me." Jenna nodded in understanding. A few awkward minutes late, she hesitantly asked, "What did they do to you there?" Render glared at her, and the older infected turned away in unease. "You really want to know?" Before she even answered, Render lifted his hoodie and t-shirt off. Jenna looked at his torso. It wasn't necessarily muscled, but he was definitely not overweight. Littering his chest were series of deep white lines, almost creating a checkerboard of scars. His pale chest pulsed as he breathed, his head turned away in slight shame as Jenna stared in incredulity. He silently shifted so she could see his back, which was in a similar state. He muttered quietly, "Almost all of me is like this."

Pulling his stained white t-shirt back over his head, he glanced at his friend, who was still trying to conceive how the _government _could do this to a young boy. "For a better cause, they said." Render told her, as if he had heard her thoughts. "They... dissected you?" Render's eyes darkened as he nodded. "I've been trying to keep my mind busy as a leader," he whispered, "but it's hard when everyone wants to know the one story you won't – _can't –_ tell." He flinched in surprise as Jenna pulled him into a tender hug. He wasn't expecting her to react like that. But then, he reasoned, perhaps a hug was all he really needed. He looped his arms around her, and the two infected watched the sun go down. **(A/N: I already know what you're thinking and this isn't going to turn into a romance fic, I swear.)**

** The Camper, on the other side of the camp**

Tom groaned as he and Owen sat there, bored out of their skulls. He desperately tried to think of something entertaining to do. There just anything to do. No one was willing to make any racist or perverted jokes, no video games were nearby, and the camper didn't even have a single book. Getting up, he walked over to one of the many containers welded into the vehicle. He opened it, a farfetched hope f finding a source of entertainment. His eyes widened when he found some dusty books, newspapers and comics. Sifting through them, his eyes alighted on his saving grace. He smiled a huge smile as he pulled out a stack of relatively new MAD magazines. "Owen!" he yelled, excitement tinging his tone. The overweight blond looked over curiously. "Yeah, Tom? What?" He dropped the magazines on the table, and Owen's jaw hit the floor.

Andrew and Eric walked into the kitchen at the loud sound of echoing laughter. They saw Tom and Owen, doubled over in fits of laughter, as they read a group of tattered Mad magazines. "What are you retards doing?" Andrew asked, plainly not finding the situation funny. Tom tried in vain to speak through his fits of laughter, but simply couldn't manage it. Andrew and Eric, curious as to what had their friends crying in mirth, walked up to the table. They, too, succumbed to fits of laughter at reading one of MAD's amazing parodies.

**At the group latrines, southern half of the camp**

Jackson zipped up his camouflaged fatigues, grabbing his M16 rifle as he left the latrines set up for the survivors to use. Ripper, who had followed him there, trailed behind him, panting slightly as he and Jackson made their way back towards the Camper. He squinted to make out the blackened shapes along the makeshift path weaving through the tents, shacks, houses and vehicles. While general power had been activated around the camp, the people here still had no way of generating enough electricity to power lamps for nights.

The dark sky shined with the white slivers of the stars, lighting up the sky. Since the end of the world, some of the heavy smog and gases in the atmosphere had disappeared, allowing a view of more stars than usual. The moon shined along with them, allowing Jackson to navigate at least semi-coherently. Ripper sniffed the ground, seeming to find anything and everything interesting. Jackson smiled to himself at the infected canine. It was funny to see him stop at every rock bigger than a golf ball to inspect it.

Jackson whistled a formless tune, his combat boots crunching the dirt and gravel beneath him. The peace of the night hid the daily horrors of the new world. Jackson paused for a moment at that thought. How would humanity's descendents think of the present? The start of the New World, with them forced to scavenge the decaying technologies of a dead civilization? A chance for humanity to try again? Or as the survivors now considered it: Hell. The soldier shrugged mentally, continuing to think of the future at the back of his mind. Only time would tell, literally.

After another several minutes of walking, Jackson angrily concluded he was lost. None of the camp was familiar in the dark. He wouldn't be able to navigate at all. Jackson's only hope was that someone who had seen where his group had parked would wander past him. Huffing in frustration, he shook his head. His thoughts needed to be clear if he were to function properly. However, all of this was interrupted when he heard a rustling of leaves to his left. Razor sharp combat instincts kicked in, Jackson shouldering his rifle and snapping to attention, straining his eyes to see around him.

The man was much closer to the junk fence surrounding the camp and holding off the feral infected. He watched and followed a slight shift in the leaves on the front row of foliage. It stopped, as if sensing his presence, and darted off into the forest. Jackson lowered his rifle, shaking his head. Where was a lookout when you needed one? He was about to go back to finding the camper when he heard a short, quiet whimper of pain. He froze in place. That was a sound a wounded, near dead animal would make. Jackson quickly considered his options. He could ignore it... but what if the animal needed his help? Knowing he would regret it deeply, he quietly whistled for Ripper's attention, and walked up to the fence. Looking for a curled portion of the chain metal, he pulled up the fence and slid underneath. Ripper followed him hesitantly seconds later.

Fingering the attached flashlight, he cautiously followed the edge of the forest until reaching an opening. Flicking the light on, he swept aside the brush with his hand, his M16 held one handed and ready to hip fire. He slowly made his way into the forest, becoming enveloped by the leaves. Ripper, whining quietly, followed behind, his tail between his legs. Why didn't the human realize what was on the other side of the plants? Jackson knew very well what the hell could be on the other side, just out of view, but he had to check. His remaining shreds of humanity were begging him to investigate, to assist the animal. His conscious just wouldn't let this little, far off chance at helping go. He stepped over the twigs and branches silently, following the ever increasing whimpering.

Jackson emerged into a moonlit clearing, his eyes vigilantly searching for enemies. The crying was much louder and more noticeable than before, and Jackson's eyes landed on the biggest nest he had ever seen. It was easily large enough to hold several adult humans comfortably. It was made of mud, branches, leaves, shredded scraps of clothing, and other seemingly meaningless items. Ripper came out several seconds after him, and began to growl at the nest. The cries paused, and finally stopped altogether. Jackson crept up to the side of the nest, rifle ready. He peered over the hazardous side of the roost.

Laying inside, squirming in a pile of leaves and clothes, sat a baby. Jackson did a double take, not believing what he was seeing. Taking one last look around the clearing, he set his M16 on the dirt and carefully picked up the babe. Ripper kept a watchful eye on the sides of the clearing, alert for any disturbances in scent or the bushes. Meanwhile, Jackson was inspecting his discovery. The baby was still quiet, terrified of the two big things looking and poking at it. Jackson pulled the coverings back, just to nearly drop the child. It had tiny, dull claws on it's feet and hands. It was a … Hunter ... pup?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as a loud, menacing growl echoed through the clearing. Eyes wide and body shaking, Jackson pivoted slowly. Behind him were two extremely angry Hunters, a male and female. As Jackson watched, desperately trying to not piss his pants, not one, but _three _more Hunters emerged. They must have traveled in a pack together, Jackson realized in terror. Knowing there was only one thing he could do, he very slowly slipped his M16 back over his right arm, left hand clutching the baby. The infected watched every twitch of his nervous fingers. Next, he did the last thing he wanted to: he pulled his sidearm out, and pointed it at the baby.

The Hunters, which had been growling in the back of their throats the entire exchange, stopped as soon as the human's little boomstick was out. Jackson whistled softly for Ripper to follow. He put the baby Hunter back in the nest, but kept his pistol trained on it, to deter any attempts to attack him. He backed out of the clearing, one step at a time, the infected canine right next to him. They pushed their backs through the underbrush after what felt like an eternity. Jackson stood there, not breathing, and without warning took off running, Ripper keeping pace. The three subordinate Hunters screamed shrilly, trailing the prey that had endangered the Alphas' offspring.

Jackson's assault rifle bucked and chattered as he fired it one-handed, blindly running towards the camp. The rifle's magazine continued spitting out ammo until it stopped with a loud, ominous _clack_. At this point, the two had nearly reached the fence, and were pushing themselves to the limit to reach the camp's boundaries. He was smacking himself for not bringing the baby with him, but he really didn't want to see the guards shoot the innocent creature along with it's family.

The man ground to a halt as he finally found the fence. Ripping the fence up, he let Ripper crawl under before following. However, a clawed hand grabbed his ankle, stopping any further progress. The Hunter yanked him back out, screaming at him. Jackson jammed the barrel under it's chin, firing a three round burst. It snapped the infected's spine and left it grasping at it's throat as the creature lost air. The other two Hunter's leaped at him, making Jackson duck as they flew into the fence. He scrambled away as the infected attacked once more. He raised his M16, but it was ripped out of his hands by one Hunter, allowing the other to scratch his chest. He hastily pulled out his sidearm, firing it point black into the Hunter holding his rifle. It jerked and twitched as the human emptied the pistol's magazine into it.

The last living Hunter darted forward, knocking his feet out from underneath Jackson. As he fell on his face, the Hunter skidded to a halt, and twisting itself around, and launched its body at the downed soldier. It was intercepted, however, by a barking Ripper, who had crawled back underneath the fence to save his human. The two ferocious infected tussled on the ground, vying for supremacy. Jackson, groaning, stumbled to his feet, and fired his rifle at the Hunter. By blind luck, he missed Ripper, hitting the Hunter's should instead. The infected reared back, crying out, and darted back into the blackened trees before the human could line up another shot.

Jackson leaned against the fence, chest heaving, as he came off of his adrenaline-fueled high. He and Ripper were covered in mild gashes and cuts, which slowly dripped blood onto the already blood-soaked soil. Huffing in exhaustion, Jackson dropped his rifle to his side. Automatically, he shimmied his way under the fence for the final time with Ripper. He stumbled down the path, and found that he had been only about a hundred yards from the camper.

Before he could make any headway, though, two armed guards rushed up to him, slowing to a stop at the sight of the wounded man. "You alright, pal? We heard some shots being fired." Jackson, his head lolling back with a sigh, replied, "I'll be better in the morning." The guard who had spoken opened his mouth, but Jackson silenced him with, "A Hunter pack. I killed two and at least three and a pup are still alive." The two guards glanced at each other as the weary survivor and faithful canine walked away. "Pup?"

**The trailer**

Everyone inside the mismatched vehicle turned towards the door as a bloody and bruised Jackson and Ripper threw the door open. Without a single word, Jackson walked past the rest of the group and went straight to his bed, where he proceeded to flop down on. Render shook his head and rolled his eyes. _Wimp. _After another hour, the only ones awake were the infected. Geoff and Fred, sensing everyone else to be asleep, slowly made their way as best they could towards the others. They sat on the floor of the camper, simply enjoying the silence. Render was the only one who dared to speak.

"So, guys... what do you remember? Of your old lives?" Render probed the group carefully. The older infected exchanged glances before answering. Jenna said, "I can't remember much, other than Screen is my sister and... well... not much else." Screen added softly, "I remember... enough to know who we are." Ryan, with slight apprehension, said, "I can recall enough, same as her." Geoff put in, "I can't remember anything but my name." Fred nodded at his statement and followed his lead, "Pretty much the same here. I do distinctly recall having fun experiments with my students in biology though..." The Charger sighed as he grasped at the torn, faded memories. Ellie just looked down at the table. "I don't want to talk about it."

Another awkward silence descended upon the table. Ryan, seeming to have just thought of something, asked Render, "What about you, Render? You didn't say anything." The infected in question looked up, almost startled by his query. "Oh, well, um, all of it, I think. If I'm missing anything than I wouldn't know, 'cause, well, yeah..." Ryan didn't look very satisfied. "Well do you specifically remember anything? A memory that stands out to you?" Render sighed, lightly scratching his head with the ends of his talons. "I definitely remember spending way too much time in front of my Xbox 360." He chuckled at his fond memories of happier times.

Ryan continued pressing on the teen. "I meant something that was unique or strange." At Render's questioning look, Ryan stated, "I just want to get an idea of your life." Furrowing his eyebrows, Render shrugged and said, "As far as I know, I lead a pretty normal life up until lately." Ryan nodded, looking unsatisfied, but kept quiet all the same. Geoff pushed himself up, grunting loudly as he stood. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to retire for the night." The rest of the infected all murmured something to the same effect, and separated to go to sleep. However, as Render slipped under his covers, he saw out of the corner Ryan staring at him with a searching look. Frowning, Render threw the blanket over his head, thinking, _What does Ryan want to know so bad...? Wait could it... no, he couldn't possibly know about Left 4 Dead. No way. No way at all..._

**A/N: Well damnit I hate writer's block. *Sigh* Honestly, I have no idea what to write at this point. I'm hoping Maxforce updates soon... writing a story plot in small steps is hard. Whatevs. Please leave a review, and I will be posting another side story (besides It's All A Game 'cause that ain't goin' nowhere yet) soon.**


	15. Don't Get Your Hopes Up

**Disclaimer: LOL, still don't own anything besides my characters.**

** OH NO RATED T FOR TEEN FOR CURSING AND STUFF QUICKLY AVERT YOUR VIRGIN EYES. If you want the actually prevelant information, just go to the bottom.**

"This fucking sucks!" Render grumbled irritably, draging his booted feet through the slushy piles of snow and flicking it off his toes with a kick. "It's cold, it's wet, I'm freezin my _goddamn _nuts off-" Render turned his head skyward, "- and the author hasn't fucking WRITTEN ANYTHING ABOUT ME FOR A YEAR!"

Blow me, I'm busy.

"With what, you lazy sack of shit?"

Homework, procrastinating, eating, stupid teenage bullshit. Come on, you know, that sort of stuff. I've been in a writing slump for a while. You know. Stuff.

"No, I _don't._ I'm a fucking character in what should be entitled 'Warhammer 2: Grimdark Boogaloo.' I have no idea what you're going on about! THIS FUCKING TAKES PLACE _BEFORE _PRESENT TIME IN YOUR REALITY, ASSHAT!"

Meh.

Render snorted, turning away and trudging back towards the camper-

No, say the damn line.

"No."

JUST DO IT GOD DAMNIT.

"_Fine." _Render sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes."Connor would like to _sincerely_-"

NO I DON'T

"-apologize for not updating, in, what, how many months has it been?"

HOLIDAY SPLEENCAKES.

"...Right then. Anyway, dear reader, you have an actually sincere apology from us, the characters, as Captain Cockmunch over there is too busy wacking off or something, I don't even know. At any rate, while he certainly _hopes _that he'll find his inspiration again, well, he doesn't exactly have a good track record with that, does he?"

Can it, you.

"I swear to Lord Buddha, if you don't write some more soon, I will eat your _children-_"

Calm down, you little fictious reflection of myself. I'll update as soon as I can, really.

"Yeah, _okay._"

Anyway, everybody sorry about not posting anything for an eternity and a half. I really have just been "uuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhblbalshdsjdnbasndaskhfcgajsc" lately with writing. I'm hoping that, even if I don't continue The Hybrid right away – though I want to – I'll find _something_ to write to get me back on track.

Happy Holidays everyone.

**Update to an update: Holy SHIT I just looked at my previous author's notes and boy, do I write those like a prepubescent teenage girl. Ugh, God, what the hell was I doing?**


End file.
